Terror, the 225th Hunger Games
by Ashbrie13
Summary: What if the Capitol took over, even after losing the second rebellion? Welcome to the 225th Hunger Games. The ninth Quarter Quell. May the odds be ever in your favor. Because this time, the odds may never be. 78 tributes enter the arena, but nothing is for sure. Only that this Quell will be truly... terrifying.
1. Intro

_The Capitol was defeated by District Thirteen and its rebels. The once regal capitol of Panem was burnt to ashes. Both President Snow and Coin were both dead, but each were replaced by their own successor. District Thirteen, by Commander Paylor, and the Capitol, by a man named Chaka Histamine. Chaka was a very serious, cunning, clever man and after five short years of hiding and plotting, he murdered Paylor in cold blood and with his followers, he took control of Panem again. The first thing the new President did was to reinstate the Hunger Games. He ruled with a cruel hand for fifty years, until his death at the age of 96. After him, there was President Hooksmee and finally, the current President, Madge Ash. _

Now it's the 225th Hunger Games; the ninth Quarter Quell. Welcome, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor, because this time, the odds may never be.

78 tributes will enter, and only one will be permitted to leave. This story is not one of joy and fun, it is one of treachery and terror. This story will never have a happy ending, because in the end, the victor is yet the ultimate victim.


	2. President Ash

President Madge Ash walked up to the podium, giving a big, fake smile, as she waved at the silent, solemn crowd. The few smiles that she recieved from the crowd were from her eager followers in the Capitol. The rest of the people standing there were either officials, or commoners trying to hide their distaste, all from the thirteen victim Districts. Stoic Peacekeepers stood at the edges of the crowd, guns held steady at their sides, ready to stop any sort of rebellion.

This year's Hunger Games was bound to be especially interesting, since it was the Quarter Quell, thought the President. Her black shoes clacked against the ground.

Madge Ash reached the podium and stood there, with her blank, careless stare, until a little boy in the plain white suit rushed up and brought her a simple wooden box, with the word _"_Quell"engraved on it.

The boy stood there, diligently waiting, as his President spoke. She reminded all of Panem about the Dark Days, the Rebellion, and how the glorious Capitol survived and took control of District 13 yet again.

President Ash, smiling calmly, a look of pure hatred in her eyes, told her audience yet again of what happened in each Quarter Quell.

Part of crowd began to murmur, speaking quietly of all the lives lost, and President Ash shot them an angry glare, daring them to speak; to be killed in front of all thirteen districts. The Peacekeepers shifted from their positions, readying their guns in case anything happened.

"Now we honor the ninth Quarter Quell," said the president, as she gave her signature intimidating smile.

The audience's eyes opened slightly, worried.

President Ash opened the box, fishing around for the envelope marked with the number 9. The envelope was found quickly, and ripped open. A sadistic grin stretched across her face as she read.

"On the ninth Quarter Quell, as a reminder that nobody is safe, and that nobody can defeat the Capitol, there will be six tributes reaped from each of the districts, three boys and three girls, ages nine through twenty-one," President Ash looked down at the crowd, glaring at them. Her maniacal grin toned down into a curt smile. She nodded at the crowd, and exited the podium.

The little boy tried to follow her, but was met with a bullet to his head. He collapsed on the ground, blood trickling from his forehead.

The audience gaped at the sight before them.

President Ash's insane grin returned to her face. The deaths of innocent children tended to do that to her.

And the first kill was always the best.


	3. District One Reaping

_I worked really hard on the reapings, and its hard to get a lot of different ideas. PM me if you have any. School's almost out, going to update faster. 8D_

_Oh and I do not own the Hunger Games, please do not sue me, Suzanne._

**Jakiro Hapler's POV**

"Jakiro! Wake up!" my mother screeched.

I rolled over and mumbled sleepily, "Five more minutes…"

My mother shook me, "Jakiro, wake up. It's 12 o-clock already. You have to get ready for the reaping." I sat up straight, jumping out of bed.

I strode to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and got freshened up.

My mother had left me a fancy suit for the reaping on my dresser. I groaned.

It was the ugly baby blue suit that I hated. She always made me wear that one.

I decided I'd put it on later. I ran downstairs.

Awaiting me was blueberry pancakes drizzled with maple syrup. I licked my lips. I loved blueberry pancakes. My mother was at the stove, making more pancakes, humming some random song. I rolled my eyes.

"Mom, why do I have to wear that ugly blue suit! I look like a baby!" I grumbled, rolling my eyes, "I hate it!"

She retorted something back at me, but I wasn't listening. I had already dug into the pancakes.

After a large stack of pancakes, I stomped upstairs and got dressed, mumbling profanities every few seconds. I shuffled to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and trudged downstairs, swearing at my mom for making me wear the suit. I slammed the door, dashed out of the house, and ran to the plaza. I strode to my age group, and stood next to my best friend, grinning.

Once the first male name was reaped, this little 13 year old, I yelled, "I volunteer!"

I could totally do better than him. He was 13, for god's sake. I was 18. Of course I could do better. I rolled my eyes, and strode up to the stage and took my place, grinning smugly.

**Illuminate Brookes' POV**

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

My alarm clock sounded like it was screaming at me. I rolled over, and pressed the snooze button, falling dead asleep in seconds.

I woke up with a start. I had turned off the alarm clock and overslept! Shit! I glanced at the clock. 11:30 AM. Phew. I still had time to get ready for the reaping. I was eligible again this year, because of the Quell. I grinned and jumped out of bed.

I put on my slippers, and shuffled to the bathroom and took a shower.

I put my hair up in a ponytail, and dashed to the kitchen, fixed myself a few waffles and munched on them thoughtfully. I was pondering whether to volunteer. Should I?

I could totally win. But there were 77 other competitors, and you never know.

"No." I thought to myself, "I'm going to volunteer this year. It's the last year I can volunteer, since last year didn't work out. I'm going to volunteer, and I'm going to win."

Finishing my waffles, I smirked.

I strode to my room, and went over to my closet.

I pushed through my clothes, and grabbed my dress. It was a lovely strapless navy blue dress that went down to my knees. I fingered the delicate designs, and put it on.

I went to the bathroom and put on some makeup. Eyeliner, a bit of mauve lip gloss and rose colored blush. I brushed my hair, pinned my bangs, and let my short, choppy locks fall to my shoulders. I went to my closet again, and picked out a pair of white sandals.

I looked at the clock. 1:30 PM. There was plenty of time to get to the plaza by 2.

I strode to the door, and walked outside, slamming the door.

Once I got to the plaza, I found the nineteen year old section, and stood next to this girl- I think her name was Ruby, that I knew from my training group.

I waited patiently as Melliah, the bubbly lady with the bouncy blue curls from the Capitol fished around in the female bowl, and picked out the first name. I didn't wait to listen for the name.

I screamed, "I volunteer!" and strode up to the podium, smirking.

**Dallion Whipshirn's POV**

Railon shook me gently, and he spoke in a soft tone, "Dallion, wake up. Reaping day."

I groaned, and mumbled, "Are Kisloi and Lasron awake yet?"

Railon nodded, and looked away, "It's going to be both yours and Lasron's first reaping. Stupid Capitol made the age for reaping 10 to 21. At least next year, Lasron would be safe." I grimaced, and said in an annoyed tone, "Stupid Capitol…"

But secretly, I was excited about the Games. I had been training for years now.

I got up, stumbled to the bathroom and took a bath, soaking in the warm water.

I rubbed the shampoo into my blonde curls, massaging my scalp. I dunked my head in the water, and washed the shampoo out. I sat there for a few minutes before I got out, and toweled myself dry.

I changed into my everyday clothes, as to keep my reaping suit clean, and I walked downstairs to the kitchen, sat down and began talking to my siblings, while sipping hot cocoa and eating a hot buttered biscuit.

Kisloi mumbled, in between bites of a biscuit, "First year for both of you. You shouldn't be reaped. Unless you volunteer, there's little to no chance that you'll be in the Games."

Lasron looked nervous. We all were.

We continued our small talk, and then we all went to our rooms to get dressed.

I put on the black suit that Railon had recommended for my first reaping outfit.

It looked good on me. I put on a pair of black shoes, ran my fingers through my hair, getting out the few tangles left over from the bath, and ran downstairs.

Kisloi, Railon and Lasron were at the door, waiting for me. Railon was going to escort us all to the plaza.

When we got to the plaza, we separated and got into our sections.

Once Melliah finished the girl's reaping, she dove into the boys' ball, and pulled out a slip of paper. She read the name, "Dallion Whipshirn."

I was certain it wouldn't be me, until I heard my name.

Melliah repeated it. Dallion Whipshirn. She had picked me.

I gulped and walked up to the podium, head held up high, smiling.

I scanned the crowd for my siblings. I found them easily. Lasron was screaming, "NO!"

Kisloi had a look of shock on her face. Railon was grimacing. I couldn't find my parents.

Peacekeepers grabbed Lasron and took him away. A look of pain registered on my face, but I quickly hid it. I hoped he'd be okay.

**Dagix Arlo's POV**

I had woke up at around 11 this morning. I had taken a shower, ate a hearty breakfast and got dressed for the reaping. I stopped by at my friend Kisnah's house, and we walked to the plaza together. I stood next to him, occasionally whispering something in his ear.

Our mayor started his long, boring speech and then Melliah had picked five out of the six tributes this year. I felt sort of sorry for the twelve year old who got reaped, Dallion Whipshirn, I think. I guess I wasn't listening, so I didn't hear my name being reaped.

Kisnah poked me, "Dagix, you got reaped. Get up there."

I was certain that someone would volunteer for me, so I waited for a few seconds.

Nobody screamed, "I volunteer!"

I strode up to the stage, giving an annoyed look.

**Ruby Glites' POV**

I woke up at around 10, and decided to train for a bit before I took my shower.

I was going to volunteer for the Games, and I wanted to be as strong as possible.

I strode to the training room of our three-story house, lifted some 10 pound weights, and threw around a few knives, hitting every target. I grabbed a spear, and attacked a dummy with it, ripping it open, and its fluffy insides flew everywhere. I rolled my eyes. The maid will clean it up. I punched a bean bag for a few minutes and did 50 sit-ups.

That should be enough to keep my strength in order.

I walked back to my room, and into the bathroom. I took a long shower, washing my long black hair. I stepped out of the shower, combed out the soft tangles, and lathered my skin with lotion. I dried off, applied a facial mask and cucumber slices, and went on to our private balcony, and tanned.

After about half an hour, my stomach started growling. I washed off the mask, took off the cucumber slices, and put on some casual clothes.

I went downstairs, and my parents were waiting for me with a huge breakfast.

It was their day off, because of the reaping, and they had prepared a feast.

Scrambled eggs, oatmeal, waffles, biscuits, hot cocoa and lastly pancakes smeared in butter, and drizzled with maple syrup. I licked my lips, and grabbed a plate.

I served myself two pancakes, a scrambled egg and hot cocoa.

My little sister Emerald had already finished and was upstairs changing.

"So, are you going to volunteer?" my mother asked me excitedly. She had won the 207th Hunger Games, and had been training me since I was five.

I nodded enthusiastically, "Totally! Soon there'll be TWO victors in our family."

As I sipped the hot cocoa, I grinned. Two victors in one family. What an honor.

Dad looked a bit worried. He was always a bit over-protective.

Finishing the egg, I mumbled, "Dad, don't worry, I'll make it out of there."

He still seemed nervous. I munched on a pancake, took the syrup bottle, and drizzled the syrup on my tongue, letting it melt.

After I finished breakfast, I went upstairs and picked out a beautiful sequined red dress for the reaping. I put on the ruby ring that I wore on a chain. It was from my mother.

It would serve as my token. I slipped into a pair of black high heels, and glanced at the clock. 1:45 PM. I'd better go.

In a matter of minutes, I was out the door, and was walking to the plaza.

Once I arrived, I sorted myself into my age group, and waited as the mayor droned on with his long speech, and Melliah picked out a name from the female reaping bowl.

I was about to scream, "I volunteer!" but this girl Illuminate screamed it first.

I rolled my eyes, and waited until Melliah announced the second name.

"I volunteer! My name is Ruby Glites, and I volunteer!" I grinned and strode up to the stage. A hushed murmur went through the crowd.

I smirked.

**Saphyre Witheroon's POV**

I woke up late. 1 PM. So I had to rush. I took a really quick shower, fixed myself a bowl of fruit salad for breakfast, drank a cup of tea and rushed upstairs to change.

My parents were probably at a friend's house. They were almost never at home.

I put on a navy blue dress to match my eyes, and sparkly black high heels to make me taller. I wanted to look my best, since I was going to volunteer.

I dusted on a bit of peach-colored blush, and blue eyeshadow. I applied a coat of glossy red lipstick. I fastened my favorite copper necklace with the sapphire pendant onto my neck. Now I was ready to go. I was out the door in a minute.

Once I got to the plaza, I waited in irritation for the mayor and Melliah to stop talking, and start reaping so I could volunteer.

They went on and on and on. Ugh.

Finally, Melliah began reaping. Two girls immediately volunteered. Guess I was going to volunteer last. When Melliah picked the third slip from the girls' reaping bowl, I stood up straight. She read, "Annalis Moorea"

A girl began to scream, "I volunteer!" but I beat her to it.

I screeched, "I VOLUNTEER!" and I drowned out that loser's voice.

"My name is Saphyre Witheroon, and I volunteer."

I strode up to the stage, looking smug. I glared at the other girls onstage, looking very smug.

I was going to win, not them.


	4. District Two Reaping

_Please review. I worked hard on this reaping. Rawr. See you D3's reaping. Note; I do not own the Hunger Games, just my writing. _

**Rygar Wildes' POV**

I was already wide awake by the time my alarm clock beeped a reminder to wake up. I always woke up early on reaping day. My hair was sopping wet from the shower I just took. I ran my fingers through my hair, and drops of warm water dripped down onto my hands.

This time, I was going to volunteer. After seeing my possible competition in the training center, I was obviously going to win.

My parents were still asleep. Whatever. I guess I could have breakfast a bit late…I wasn't that hungry anyways. I grabbed my laptop and begun to watch some clips from previous Games, so I could analyze the tactics of the winners.

My mother knocked on my door, "Rygar, you awake?"

I set down the laptop onto my desk and replied, "I've been awake for an hour or so…what's for breakfast?" She grinned, and my father popped out from behind her with a huge stack of pancakes smothered in maple syrup. Mmmmm…I loved breakfast in bed.

Well…sort of. Since I was already awake, it didn't count as much.

My parents sat on the divan by my bed, eating their own stacks of pancakes.

I grinned at them proudly, "Guess what?"

Dad replied quickly, trying not to spill pancake bits out of his mouth as he spoke, "What, Rygar?" Mom smiled at me, encouraging me to spill my news.

"I'm going to volunteer this year! I'm 18, and I'm finally ready." I beamed down at them.

The reaction I saw was not the one that I expected. They both looked at me sadly, murmuring in unison, "There's going to be 77 other tributes…are you sure? That's a LOT of competition…"

I nodded enthusiastically, "Of course I'm sure! Why wouldn't I be?"

Finishing my pancakes, I wiped my mouth with my pajama sleeve. Crap, why did I do that? Now my pajamas are going to be all sticky. Oh, never mind. I wasn't going to sleep in them for a long time anyways.

I ushered my parents out of the room, put on my best reaping suit, and headed off to the plaza, munching on an apple.

-.-.-.-

I felt a sharp prick of pain as the Peacekeepers categorized us. As I shuffled to my 18 year old section, I bumped into this strong looking girl. She swore at me. I swore back at her. We went into our sections. Next thing I knew, our escort Shayah Maerce had already finished reaping the girls, and was finishing up the boys.

"Fell Depeere!" Shaya trilled, a grin on her rosy face, her pale blond curls bouncing.

I yelled, "I VOLUNTEER!" and strode up to the stage, smirking. That strong looking girl that bumped into me gave me a glare from up on the stage.

I rolled my eyes and returned the glare. Guess I'd have to deal with her for a bit longer. No problem.

**Sahiella Harrat's POV**

I still can't believe that the 9th Quarter Quell was going to include 6 tributes from each district, ages 9-21! I don't know what I'd do if I were to be reaped. Probably help the little kids as best as I can.

"Next," the Peacekeeper said. I stuck my finger forward and looked away.

I bit my lip. It's surprising how painful a little prick can be.

Another Peacekeeper guided me to the twenty-one year old section. I looked over at Tilian, who stood aside with baby Rose. He turned twenty-two a few weeks ago, so he was safe. Little Rose Harrat was safe for another eleven years.

Shayah Maerce, our escort, strode up to a stage, giving a big smile. Nobody liked Shayah. She was too bubbly and much too perky. Not to mention smug. She was so damn smug. Shayah waited patiently, for the mayor to finish his long speech with all the shit the Capitol forced him and all the other mayors to say. Mayor Crisbee finished with a cough, and Shayah seized the opportunity to begin her non-stop chatter.

"We'll begin with the ladies!" Shayah announced, like she did every year.

Shayah fished around daintily in the enormous reaping bowl. She loved to take plenty of time. Finally, she plucked out three slips of paper and read them out, one by one.

"Anna-Mari Simmons!" A girl began to step out of line, but a strong, muscular girl immediately volunteered for her.

"Chelsea Sapphire!" Shayah warbled, a grin plastered on her face. A younger girl stepped out of line, and two girls who looked identical to her gave her a sad look. The girl, Chelsea strode up to the stage, grinning and smiling to the crowd. Guess she was playing the sweet bubbly girl to get sponsors.

"Sahiella Harrat!" she trilled.

Shit, did she just reap me? Oh god, she did.

The crowd parted, giving a strait path for me to walk up to the stage.

Mellah Partrid, my best friend, whispered a few words of pity and good luck.

I walked up to the stage slowly, doing my best to ignore the feeling of horror in my stomach. Shayah went on with the names, but I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy glaring down the other girls who were reaped. Got to start remembering my techniques.

"On to the boys!" Shayah trilled, a big grin on her face.

She repeated the long procedure of picking three names from the reaping bowl. Finally, once all the tributes were up on the stage, she announced with a big flurry,

"Sahiella Harrat, Claridescent Marie, Chelsea Sapphire, Cilan Wolf, Ravyon Chase and Rygar Wildes, the tributes from District Two!"

**Ravyon Chase's POV**

I wake up in Aron's old bed, like every day of the year. His parents took me in eleven years ago. Aron's my best friend. He never told anyone that I killed those Peacekeepers. They deserved it anyways. My parents were innocent. Aron's parents, Sphere and Andra act like my real parents, but they're not. They can never replace my mom and dad.

I stumble downstairs and look at the clock. 11:44. I have plenty of time. A stack of piping hot pancakes and a note wait for me. Another stack of pancakes lying next to my stack is obviously for Aron.

"Ravyon, Aron, the maid prepared you breakfast. We had to leave early. Good luck at the reaping. XOXO, Sphere and Andra."

I eat the pancakes slowly, and syrup drips down my chin. A glass of orange juice is in the fridge. I grab it, chug it, dump the dishes in the sink and run upstairs. I stride into my closet, pick out a black suit, and a pair of shiny black shoes, get dressed and stride over to Aron's room. He's still asleep, so I whip his covers off and poke him.

"Let me sleep!" he mumbles. He gets up after a few minutes of complaining. He stumbles downstairs, eats his breakfast, while I finger my parents wedding rings, which are conveniently located on a chain around my neck. We exchange a few words, and he goes upstairs to get dressed. Twenty minutes later, we walk out to the plaza solemnly.

-.-.-.-

After those damn Peacekeepers catalogue us, we are ushered into our sections. I stand next to Aron, but we don't talk. Next thing I know, the escort has called my name.

"Ravyon Chase, come on up!" I put on my blank stare, and take a deep breath. Peacekeepers jerk up at the name. It's familiar, because I'm a suspect in the ongoing Peacekeeper death case. I walk up slowly, glaring down everyone. The escort- was it Shayah?- grinned down at me.

I ignored her, giving a slight smirk.

**Claridescent Marie's POV**

Tying up my long auburn hair is such a pain. But it's reaping day, and I'm volunteering.

I slip into my green gown specifically bought for the day I volunteered. I was being forced into volunteering by my mother, who was threatening to kill me if I didn't volunteer. At least if I volunteered I'd have a chance to live. I'd just have to kill 77 other tributes to do so. But I didn't mind. Killing others was going to be such fun. My brother volunteered a few years back, and we had to watch him be brutally tortured to death by a mutt. He wasn't strong. He didn't have it in him to win. But I do.

Putting on a pair of black sandals with silver sequins, I hurry downstairs, grab an apple from the fruit bowl, and rush out the door to the plaza.

I don't even notice as the Peacekeeper pricks my finger, I'm too busy thinking of techniques. I'd join the Careers, kill with them until we were down to the final twelve or so, then kill the other Careers in their sleep. I grinned evilly.

Another Peacekeeper guided me to the 16 year old section, where I stood next to a girl with short, curly black hair, with a look of terror in her blue eyes.

As Shayah, our escort warbled on, I planned my strategy in detail. Then I heard Shayah begin to reap the girls, and once I heard the first name, I raised my hand high in the air, screaming, "I volunteer as tribute" and pushed past the girl who was reaped, up to the stage. I now stood up on the stage, my head high, smirking. I could see my mother giving me an evil look from the crowd.

I ignored her, and began to morph out of my usual self into a cold, heartless killer.

**Cilan Wolf's POV**

I woke up to my hand-made alarm clock beeping a loud, annoying wake up call. I turned over on the dirty white mattress located in the alley I lived in, hitting the Snooze button.

I've been living on the streets ever since my father became a drunk and killed my mother "on accident." Nobody bothered me here, mostly because it was in the outskirts of the District. I rummaged through the trash often, taking whatever I thought to be useful. I had pretty much set up a small house in that dark alley. I had some furniture, a dresser full of my old clothes, and whatever I could buy with the measly amounts of extra money I found on the streets.

Grabbing my glasses, and putting them on, I glance around. Nothing had been stolen, as usual. I had a burglar steal some of my belongings a year ago. Ever since, I had developed a system of traps around my large tented "home." I stood up, dropping my light blanket on the mattress, and began to rummage through my dresser, looking for my reaping clothes. It was my third year that I could be reaped.

I choose my cleanest white shirt and a pair of dark slacks.

I ran away from home six years ago, to District 3, where I learned how to tinker and build. It's all I do these days. But the Peacekeepers caught me after a few months in District 3, and brought me back to District 2. I got a severe whipping, and I still bear the scars. I've been living on the streets since.

Checking the clock, I see that it's already 1 PM.

"Better get to the plaza," I thought to myself. Grabbing my necklace with the obsidian arrow, checking the cracked mirror I found in the trash two years ago, and finally combing out my hair, I left to go to the plaza.

I eyed the Peacekeeper nervously as he pricked my finger. **Wolf, Cilan. 14/M**

He looked up, and I saw his face up close. It was the Peacekeeper who whipped me years ago. I quickly glanced away, and he pointed me towards my section of 14 year olds.

I began to wait patiently as the mayor talked, then Shayah, our escort, and I waited as Shayah picked the female tributes. Once she began to reap the male tributes, I began to get nervous. I only had six slips of paper in there. I wouldn't be chosen.

But I was wrong. The next name was called. It wasn't just some boy who trained half his life to be in the Games, it was me.

Shayah repeated herself, "Cilan Wolf, come on up! Don't be shy!"

The crowd began to part for me, and two rough hands grabbed my arms, pushing me forward. I began to steadily walk towards the stage, holding back my anger. My eye twitched. I was about to cry. Instead of letting the salty, wet tears flow, I bit my lip and thought of my father. I could never forgive him. I sniffled, and stalked up to the stage, standing next to the other tributes.

I was going to my certain death. There was no way I could survive, unless I could build a contraption of some sort, but that required wires and tools.

I gulped and closed my eyes, pushing up my glasses. But there was no way I was going down without a fight. They wouldn't get that pleasure, killing me easily.

I smiled, feeling a little bit more confident.

**Chelsea Sapphire's POV**

Standing in the thirteen-year old section, next to my sisters Catie and Christie, I whisper,

"I hope I don't get reaped. I'm not ready yet."

Catie murmurs, "Chels, you won't get reaped. You only have a few slips in there."

I had been training for the Games for years, just in case, but truthfully, I didn't really want to be in the Games. I wanted to help the little kids train, so they'd be better, and have a greater chance of surviving if they were reaped.

Shayah, our bubbly escort began to talk,

"I'm not one to break tradition, so we'll begin with the ladies!"

She grinned, and fished around in the bowl for a minute or so, and she finally picked out three slips, reading them out.

"Anna-Mari Simmons!" she trilled. A girl with short, curled black hair stepped out of the crowd. A strong, muscular girl with beautiful, flowing auburn hair raised her hand and screamed "I volunteer as tribute!" She pushed Anna-Mari aside, and strode up to the stage, smirking.

Shayah read out the second name, "Chelsea Sapphire!"

Catie gasped, and Christie began to tear up. I waited for a few moments for a volunteer, but there was none. I took a deep breath, and walked up to the stage slowly, putting on a smile, and waving to the crowd as I got to the stage.

I began to feel confident. I was going to win this thing. I had to. So I could see Catie and Christie again. I had a fair chance. I've been training since I was five. My father wanted to make sure I'd be safe if I were to be reaped.

As the third female tribute was reaped, I was smiling to the crowd.

"Sahiella Harrat!" Shayah warbled, a huge grin plastered on her face. I greeted the new tribute with a kind smile, and she returned the smile with a weak grin.

Shayah began to reap the boys, but I was no longer paying attention. I was planning my strategy for the Games.


	5. District Three Reaping

_Note: I do not own the Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does (but I would kill to own it). _

**Ever's POV**

Adam squeezes my hand, and I gave him a reassuring smile. He whimpers; his eyes full of terror. It was his first year. First years are always the scariest.

"It'll be okay. You won't be reaped" I murmured. He winced as the Peacekeeper stuck the needle in his finger. Another Peacekeeper sent us to our groups. Balthazar glanced at me from his fourteen-year old section, and I gave him a weak grin. Eve was zoning out, as usual, in her fifteen-year old section. I shuffled towards my seventeen-year old section. I had almost 50 slips with my name in that bowl. I had to take tesserae, because we had such a big family that both parents working couldn't support us.

I glanced at Jane in her section. She was grimacing. I hoped she wouldn't be reaped. I'd lose my only friend. I instructed my siblings not to take tesserae, so they shouldn't be reaped. Hopefully.

Our escort, Marqus Fillipe was strictly glaring at us, his disturbing violet eyes shining, and his spiky black hair slightly blending in with the dull gray sky.

He had already picked the girls, and I was relieved that neither Jane nor Eve had been reaped.

Marqus droned on in a creepy low voice, "Now it's time for the boys' reaping…May the odds be ever in your favor…"

Marqus snatched three slips from the bowl, reading them out.

"Ever Thoguht." I gulped, shivering from the cold, and walked slowly onstage, a look of terror in my eyes. Marqus read the next slip, repeating my name.

"Seems like we got two slips with the same name! I'll choose another one," he said.

"Eimantas Cereska!" Marqus sounded, his eyes flashing, "Carilse Wormald!"

He concluded with, "Meet the District Three tributes, Sage Sprucewood, Stellara Kasdin, Sun Evans, Ever Thoguht, Eimantas Cereska, and finally, Carilse Wormald!"

**Sun's POV**

I woke up to a familiar sight- my grandmother lightly shaking me, smiling, murmuring,

"Wake up, Sun! Reaping day!" She looked grim.

I groaned and rolled out of bed, and went to the bathroom to apply a mud mask. I have to look nice for the reaping, don't I? I want those stupid pimples to disappear! God I'm so ugly. Why can't I lose some weight? Ugh. I stare at myself in the mirror, hating everything I see. The mud mask stings, but it'll hopefully help with the pimples…

I wash it off once it dries, and apply lotion.

I head to the kitchen and Gran is waiting for me with a small stack of maple pancakes, my favorite. I dig into the pancakes, savoring their sweet taste. We only have maple pancakes on special occasions, because the ingredients are expensive and scarce in District Three. I gulp down my orange juice, and then I ask for more.

Gran shakes her head, "Sorry Sun, that's the last of the orange juice. I'll buy more soon." I give her a dejected look, and then trudge back to my room to get changed. It's already 1:15 PM. I slip into a pale silver gown, but it's a little small. I've worn it twice for the reaping already. It's my third time. I hate it now, because it extenuates my fat stomach.

I throw on a matching silver cardigan and a pair of black high heels. They make my legs look longer than they really are.

"Sun, we need to go!" called Gran. I rush to the door, where she's waiting for me, and we head off for the plaza.

Once we're there, Gran and I separate, and the Peacekeeper pricks my finger at the station. I wince and another Peacekeeper sends me to my 14 year old section. I can see Teal in the 17 year old section, chatting with a friend. I'm standing next to the popular girls in my grade, and I hunch over. _Please don't notice me. Please don't notice me. _

The girls finally notice me and start laughing cruelly, pointing at me. A Peacekeeper notices, glares at them, and they shut up. I thank the Peacekeeper silently.

Our escort, a stern man (I think his name was Marqus Fillipe) with streaked black and blue hair and violet eyes, looks down at us, glaring. He waited patiently as the mayor went on about the first rebellion, which started the Hunger Games, and then the second one, started by Katniss Everdeen. The mayor continued, telling us about how the Capitol regained power, even after losing the second rebellion, and how it ruled even stricter, increasing the amount of Peacekeepers and keeping a close watch on the Districts.

Once the mayor finished, Marqus took the chance and began to reap the girls.

His low voice rang out through the plaza as he called the first name, "Sun Evans!"

I was reaped. I can't speak, can't move. The girls beside me smirk and giggle loudly, moving aside. Three Peacekeepers grab me. I begin sobbing loudly, tears streaming from my eyes in buckets. Someone _has _to volunteer, right? Won't they?

The Peacekeepers shove me forward. Still no volunteers.

I can hear the girls whispering, "Loser! Get up there, you little b*tch!"

I'm crying my eyes out now. One of the Peacekeepers hiss, "Get MOVING." I sniffle again, feeling depressed. I trudge up to the stage, my head low and my eyes puffy from all my crying.

Marqus yells out the next two names quickly, "Stellara Kasdin! Sage Sprucewood!"

Two girls walk up to the stage, but I don't care.

In two weeks, I'm going to die.

**Carilse's POV**

I'm washing the dishes forcibly by Mrs. Hawalay, when I spot a girl a year older than me slipping by the kitchen. I think her name is Stellara or something. My eyes flit back to the dishes. Mrs. Hawalay glares at me. I quickly finish them up, and am thanked with a loud bark, "Go to your room, orphan."

Today, miraculously, we got breakfast. It's probably because it's reaping day, but you never know, maybe the Hawalays decided to be nice for once.

I was practically salivating at the sight. A huge plate of eggs, a pot full of creamy oatmeal and a glass of milk for each child was waiting at the enormous dining table. The serving maid filled our bowls with the oatmeal, and shoveled a few scrambled eggs onto our plates. Instead of scarfing the food down like all the other kids did, I ate slowly, savoring every bite. Rich, creamy oatmeal melted upon my tongue, and I closed my eyes, feeling blissful.

Soon after, I push my empty plate towards the middle of the table, and leave towards the room I share with 4 other kids. I slip into my reaping outfit, and comb my hair, trying to get the grease out. It didn't work. A yell comes from the hallway, telling us to line up to go to the plaza. I shuffle out the door, trying not to be trampled by all the other kids.

About half an hour later, we arrive at the plaza and lined up to get our fingers pricked, for "authentication" as the Peacekeepers say. Once it's my turn, I look away as the creepy black-eyed Peacekeeper pricks my index finger. I wince as the drop of blood is taken from me, and another Peacekeeper shoves me towards my 12 year old section.

The mayor gets through with his speech in record time and our escort reaps three girls quickly, the girl Stellara and two other girls, who both cry their eyes out. Weaklings.

The escort begins to reap the boys, accidentally reaping a boy twice, and then he calls out the name I least want to hear. Mine.

How nice. I'm going to die in two weeks. Yay?

**Stellara's POV**

I wake up in the dirty orphanage, and my hand brushes against a cockroach, residing on the dirty brown wall. I scream and retract my hand, wiping it against the gray sheets that I sleep upon. Kas swears from the bunk above me. Wherever he learned such vulgar words, at the tender age of **11**, I do not know. I always scold him about it, but he just calls me a cunt and walks off. It's sad that my own brother hates me. It wasn't MY fault that our parents abandoned us here, but he still blames me for it, even though he **knows** it wasn't my fault. I still blame myself though…

"Kas, don't swear." I hiss, but he just mumbles another insult and falls back asleep.

I roll out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom, picking up my reaping clothes on the way there. I lock the door and rinse my dirty face, then change into my dull gray dress with white seams.

Someone raps loudly and I open the door. Dela, the new girl, barges in, shoving me to the side.

"Get out of my way, loser." She hisses, and I exit the bathroom. She's new here, and is quite the stuck up b*tch, if I may say so. She's not used to not being pampered by her rich parents, who recently died in a fire.

I slip out of my room and into the dark hallway. Nobody seems to be awake, besides me and Dela. I can hear faint clanging in the kitchen. Mrs. Hawalay must be forcing some poor kid to wash the dishes. I'm just glad it's not me.

I sneak past the kitchen and to the doorway, where I unlock the door and slip outside. The air is cleaner here, and I like it better than the stench of the orphanage.

I dash over to the cellar, where I've hidden my stash of food that I stole from the kitchen; along with the extra money I've kept hidden from the Hawalay's strict gaze. They force orphans older than 10 to work at the power plants, and they collect the money, claiming that they need it for our food, but I really think they're spending it on themselves. I lay away around 2 or 3% of my monthly salary for myself, and since it's such a small amount, the Hawalay's don't notice.

I sit, hidden by the shadows, eating an apple, taking a swig of water from my tiny water bottle every few minutes. Once I'm finished, I grab a few coins and set off towards the bakery, hoping to get a discount since it's the reaping day.

I skip towards the bakery's entrance and the delicious smell of freshly baked rolls wafts through the air. I inhale the godly scent, and enter the bakery, leaving a tiny bell ringing.

"Hello there! Can I be of help to you?" the chubby baker says in a jolly tune.

"Hello! I'd like two poppy rolls please." I grin at him.  
He winks back at me, handing me the rolls, "Anything else?"

"No thank you. How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing. I'm feeling generous today." He grins.

"Thank you so much!" I snatch one of the rolls out of the bag and take a big bite. I'm pondering whether to give Kas the other roll as I walk out the bakery door. I decide not to, wiping my mouth of the crumbs and retrieving the other roll, tossing the paper bag in a nearby floating trash can. Huh…must be a new addition to District Three…I've never seen one before.

After a while, I arrived at the orphanage and slipped into the line of kids, and we all headed off to the plaza.

"Sun Evans!" the escort announces, and a girl breaks into tears. She trudges up to the stage, sobbing her eyes out. I feel a pang of sympathy, but I'm not going to volunteer. I don't want to die.

"Stellara Kasdin!" Oh crap.

**Eimantas' POV**

"Eima! Wake up!" My little sister Cara trilled joyfully. I rubbed my eyes, yawning. Cara jumped onto the bed, poking me, "Wake up Eima! Wake up!"

She was so innocent. Unlike me. I had the Hunger Games to deal with. Hopefully I wouldn't be reaped. But I did take tesserae ever since I turned 12, so I have 20 slips of paper with my name on it.

I threw off the covers and tackled Cara playfully to the ground. She giggled, smiling up to me.

"Come on." I murmured, and Cara jumped on my back, insisting that I give her a piggyback ride. I consented, and we trudged to the kitchen, where my mother, Dalia was cooking a pot of oatmeal. She smiled at us, and motioned towards the table, where three glasses of milk sat. Cara immediately bounded over to the table, and climbed up on her chair. She reached out to grab her glass of milk, gulped a few sips down, milk dribbling down her chin. I chuckled, shuffled over to my seat, and took a sip of my milk. Our mother finished stirring the hot, creamy oatmeal and poured it into three bowls, dusting a little bit of sugar on each. I noticed that she added extra for me, and grinned. She placed the bowls down at our seats, one by one and we all dug in.

I quickly finished my breakfast, grabbed a small apple and strode to my room, making sure Cara wouldn't follow me. She didn't, but I locked the door just in case. I changed into a suit that was a little small on me, since I've worn it the past three reapings. I slide into my black shoes, comb my tangly hair and unlock the door. Cara pounces on my leg. I laugh, and kick her off, but she latches on again. I shuffle to the door, where my mother is waiting. We head off to the town square, and once we're there, a Peacekeeper pricks my finger, and ushers me away to the 16 year old section. Cara is clinging to our mother, in the crowds.

I zone out for a while, then begin to pay attention once the reaping starts. _Please don't be me. Please don't be me. _I silently beg.

But the odds are not in my favor today. After two other boys are reaped, my name is called.

"Eimantas Cereska!" growls Marqus Fillipe, our escort.

I gulp, grimace and then walk slowly up to the stage, giving out a fake crowd-pleasing smile. But I am not happy. I am not sad. I'm worried. Who will take care of Cara and my mother when I'm gone?

Cara's sobs echo out from the crowd, and I can see my mother trying to hush her. But it's too late. A gunshot rings out, and Cara crumples to the ground, blood seeping from her head.

"No!" I scream, and try to dash down from the stage, sprinting to Cara. By the time I've reached Cara and my mother, I fall to the ground, stroking Cara's hair, and sob. Four angry Peacekeepers grab me, and one whispers cruelly, "She's dead, deal with it."

"GET THE F*CK AWAY FROM ME!" I howl, kicking and punching the Peacekeepers, screaming, "SHE WAS ONLY SIX!"

Something sharp is jabbed into my arm, and I go limp. The last thing I see is my mother worridly looking at me, pain in her eyes. Then everything goes black.

**Sage's POV**

I'm already awake by the time my siblings barge into my room, giggling and shouting. I groan, and hug each one of them. They gallop out of the room, making as much noise as possible. I'm glad Mother takes care of them instead of me. Father is at work right now, even though its reaping day. He'll be home soon.

I stride to the bathroom and lock the door. I turn on the bathtub, and icy cold water bursts from the faucet. The water heats up a little bit, and I undress and step into the lukewarm bath, submerging my head in the water. My brown hair floats around in the water, I grab the shampoo, sit up straight and lather it into my hair. I dunk my head underwater again, washing out the dirt, soap and grime. By the time I'm fully finished washing my body, the water has grown cool, so I step out and throw my bathrobe on, and wrap my hair tightly in a towel. I stare at myself in the cracked mirror. A scrawny girl with blue eyes, olive skin and strands of hair peeking out from the towel stares back at me.

I hear a loud knock on the door. "Sage! Let me in! I gotta pee!" It's my little sister, Tempest.

"Gimme a minute!" I yell, rushing to dry off. I lean down and towel my hair dry, pulling it into a high ponytail. I unlock the door, and my sister barges in, pushing me aside. I go to my room to finish drying off, to find my two-year old brother is bouncing on my tiny bed.

"Hatcher, get out of my room! Please." He jumps off the bed, laughing and slams my door as he leaves. I step into my tiny closet and shed my bathrobe, pulling on a pair of underwear and a black skirt. Next, I slip into my bra and pull on a fancy shirt specifically bought for the reaping. I sigh. The Hunger Games is a cruel thing. Twenty-three innocent children die each year, just so that the Capitol can be amused. This year, the death toll will be 77. And don't get me started on the victors. I've heard enough to understand that each and every one is tormented by nightmares each night, and some even go crazy. And each one has to witness 23 deaths, again and again and again, until they die.

It's Rowan's first reaping, because of this stupid Quell. He's already dressed when I sit down at the ratty dining table. Mother is at the stove, mixing together batter for pancakes. The delicious aroma of lemon scones waft through the kitchen and I inhale the wondrous scent. We never have scones, let alone lemon scones. It's a special treat for a horrible day.

In the meanwhile, I begin a conversation with Rowan.

"So are you nervous? It's your first reaping."

"Yeah..."

"Don't worry. You won't get reaped. You didn't take any tesserae, and there's only 1 slip of paper with your name on it."

"I hope so...what about you? Are you nervous?"

"Of course. I have my name in there 16 times."

Rowan's eyes widen. Whoops...I didn't tell him that I was taking tesserae...

"But don't worry. If I get reaped, I have a plan."

"What's that?" He inquires.

I grin, "I'd play weak and win the Games. Of course, I'd get an ally or two, use their protection and then run off when it gets too serious."

He raises his eyebrow, nodding, "That's a pretty good plan, I guess."

"What would your plan be?"

"Dunno, probably the same as yours."

Our conversation comes to an end when Hatcher bounds up to the table, struggling to get up to his chair. I laugh and help him up. The timer beeps, and the lemon scones are removed from our small oven. Mother puts them on the rack to cool off, and goes back to flipping pancakes. I get up and remove a carton of milk from the dirty white refrigerator, putting it down on the counter and reaching up to open the cupboard for five glasses. I set the glasses on the table, and Rowan gets the clue, pouring milk into each of the glasses.

I yell, "Tempest, Alysis, breakfast time!" Both girls scurry over to the table, seating themselves and taking a sip of their milk.

Mother finishes the batch of pancakes, and piles them on a large plate, handing the stack to me, and I put it on the table. The scones have long cooled off, so I stack them on a plate and deliver them to the table, then I sit down and help myself to a scone and a small stack of pancakes.

Crumbs tumble to the ground as I munch on the scone, savoring its wonderful taste. I take a sip of the milk, to wash the scone down.

"Thanks for breakfast Mom!" Alysis yodels, and gets up from the table, going to her room.

"Tank-you!" Hatcher pipes up and runs after Alysis.

Now its just me, Tempest, Rowan and Mother. We sit in silence, eating our breakfast.

Tempest breaks the silence by getting up and putting her plate in the sink, saying "Thanks Mom." and dashing off. Mother clears her throat and gets up, dumping her dishes in the sink, and walks off towards her and Father's room.

Rowan and I eye each other, munching on our pancakes. I finish my last pancake and snatch up another scone. Rowan does the same.

"Copycat."

He just snorts and I roll my eyes. I take a huge bite of my scone and a sip of milk. We finish off our breakfast, right when Father comes home.

"Hi Father"

"Hello Sage, Rowan. Where's your mother?"

"In your room. I have no idea what she's doing."

He leaves to find Mother, and Rowan and I plop onto the old couch, ready to go to the plaza for the reaping.

Once Mother and Father rounded up Hatcher, Alysis and Tempest, we all went to the plaza. I hung behind with Rowan, having no interest to talk to my parents.

"Good luck."

"You too."

Rowan and I depart to our sections after the Peacekeepers authenticated us. Both of us are nervous. Father, Mother and the younger kids are in the crowd somewhere, and I can feel my stomach fluttering about. I hope I don't get reaped.

Our escort, Marquer something begins to reap the girls and my stomach does a flip-flop.

"Sun Evans!" Phew, not me so far. Two more girls to go, and I'm safe.

The girl practically has a mental breakdown, sobbing and thrashing about. It's really sad.

"Stellara Kasdin!" Oh...it's a girl from my science class in school. We don't really know each other, but I'm grateful it's not me. Stellara walks up to the stage, head held high, but I can see that she's scared.

"Sage Sprucewood!"

Shit. _Breathe, Sage, breathe. Just go by your plan. _

I take a deep breath and fake a sniffle. I blink, and tears form in my eyes. _Wow, not bad Sage. _I'm shivering as I walk up to the stage. Of course it's all an act, but nobody needs to know that. I sniffle loudly once I reach the stage, looking at the ground, letting some tears drip down my face. I can hear sad murmurs throughout the crowd.

_Good. Let them believe I'm a weakling. _

I grin. My plan was going just as planned.


	6. District Four Reaping

**Note: Oh my freaking god. This was so killer. I had to force myself to write it faster. Gonna try to upload District Five's reaping by the end of the week, k? Also, check out my other stories. I get bored of stories easily and start new ones...then get bored of those and go back to the old ones...lol. ...I need inspiration. Hope you like it. Yes, I shortened the POV's a bit, cuz it's driving me crazy. Long POV's=insanity. **

**~Ashy**

Ekuma's POV

My brother (who also happens to be dead), Entica, whispers in my ear, his body clear and shimmering, his head cocked to the side, grinning maliciously,

"_**You should volunteer today."**_

"Maybe I should." I murmured, my blue eyes shining.

Our conversation is abruptly ended when my father calls out gruffly,

"Get your lazy asses to the table, NOW."

I roll my eyes, thinking, "_Stupid parents. Stupid family." _as I trudge downstairs to the kitchen, passing my morphine-addicted sister Kiki, who had a disturbing smile on her face as she hummed to herself.

"You're humming such a _lovely _tune, Kiki!" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

She smiles, oblivious to the sarcasm, "Thanks Ekuma!" Her eyes shine, and I snicker. She has no idea how much I hate her guts. Heh.

My mother is gulping down a mug full of ale, all while massaging her temples when I reach the table, and my father is glaring at me in an intimidating way. I cock my head, grinning in a rebellious way, my eyes flaring up with hate and sarcastic love.

"Sit down Ekuma."

"No problem." I hiss, glaring at him.

"There better not be one," he growls. I make an effort to make as much noise as possible as I sit down. My mother walks over to the counter and snatches a plate full of eggs (my least favorite food, as I may say) and puts it in front of me. My eye twitches, and I grip the wooden table by its edges, flipping it over angrily, breaking the dishes on it.

"Fuck you all." I grab an apple from the counter and stomp up to my room.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE FUCKWIT!" My father screeches, throwing an empty bottle at my head. I duck, it crashes into the wall in front of me and I give them my middle finger. _God they were annoying._

I reach my room, and Entica's calm, conniving voice rings in my head, _**"Volunteer."**_

"I think I will," I murmur, throwing a punch at my punching bag. It bounces backwards, and then flies forward where it hits my waiting hand. I let it fly backwards again and step away. It swings for a few more minutes and I fall upon my beanbag, cussing at the world.

I sigh and step into my closet, and throw on a black suit and a pair of shoes. I walk out, lock my door, unlock my window and climb out and onto the roof, where I jump down into the bushes. I take a large bite out of the apple, chewing slowly. I needed to talk to Kelo, my best friend. I sneak past the kitchen and to the backyard, where I scale the fence, jump into the neighbor's yard and onto the street. I take another bite of the apple, spitting the seeds out into the bushes. I begin to run towards Kelo's house, sprinting at top speed, my shoes clacking loudly on the pavement.

"Hey."

I'm surprised by Kelo's soft voice and I murmur, "I didn't see you there."

"I was just looking for you. How's the parents?"

"Driving me insane, as usual. Today I flipped over the dining table, and Embry threw an empty bottle at my head." I grin. "The usual." Kelo always managed to cool me down.

"How's Entica?"

"He's saying I should volunteer."

"Ekuma, don't."

"Maybe I won't, maybe I will." I say, and Entica's voice continues to ring through my mind, repeating one word, _**"Volunteer." **_over and over again.

She grips my hand tightly, "Don't. I don't want to lose another one of my friends." Our friend (or rather hers) Hiema, died two years ago in the 223th Hunger Games.

"You don't think I could win?"

"You could, but the odds are especially against you this year; 77 other tributes. Just don't."

I take a vicious bite out of my apple, and juice dribbles down my chin. I wipe it away, taking another bite. I cock my head, and Entica's wispy form shows up in front of me, cackling,

"_**Volunteer. You know you want to. Don't listen to her."**_

"He's telling me not to listen to you. Should I?"

"Listen to me, Ekuma. You can't volunteer."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to lose you."

"So this is all about you, isn't it?"

"No! I just want you to be safe!"

"See? YOU want me to be safe."

"But don't you want to be safe yourself?"

"I don't really care anymore, Kelo. I'm sorry." I stalk away, spitting apple seeds.

"_**Good job Ekuma."**_

"Oh shut up Entica." I nibble the apple core, then toss it away angrily. Kelo tries to run up beside me, but I break into a sprint towards the square towards the table with the Peacekeepers. My shoes clacking loudly, I arrive into line and Entica whispers in my ear again.

"_**Ekuma, it's almost time. Are you ready?"**_

"Who said I was GOING to volunteer?" I mumbled, and the girl in front of me looked at me strangely, murmuring something about crazy people.

"_**Ekuma, I say so."**_

"_And why should I listen?" _I thought irritably.

"_**Because you know you want to volunteer, Ekuma."**_

"_No I don't." _I think, my eyes flaring up angrily.

"_**Yes you do." **_ He cackles. A Peacekeeper glares at me.

"What you gonna do, stare into space? Gimme your finger!" I do so, and I'm pretty sure he pricked it especially hard on purpose.

**Biley, Ekuma; 13 **reads the device. Another Peacekeeper ushered me into my 13 year old section, and I shuffled over to it. I was shoved towards a wiry boy with brown hair. Entica settled in next to me, his glowing; see through form floating in the air, cackling gleefully.

Our escort, a bubbly lady with puffy pink hair with embedded purple jewels, violet eyes, porcelain skin with firey flames stenciled onto her cheeks, and a freakish purple dress stepped up to the stage.

"Hello District Four! I'm your replacement escort, Petunia Frost!" she announced in a disgustingly high pitched voice. Her voice hit a high pitch at every "o".

"_**You ready?"**_ Entica whispered slyly.

"_No…" _I thought, but as soon as Petunia announced the first boy's name, I yelled out.

"I VOLUNTEER!" Entica grins at me evilly, and floats beside me as I walk up to the stage.

"_**Ready to die?"**_ His smile breaks into a malicious grin.

Kitari's POV

I shake my little brother gently, murmuring, "Yani, wake up. It's already 11."

He makes an annoyed sound and turns over, pulling the blanket over his head. His foot sticks out on the side, flopping around lazily.

"Yani, we have to be out of the house in an hour. Peacekeepers are searching houses, remember?"

"Ugh." He buries his face in the pillow. I whip off his blanket and toss it in a bag, already half full with our belongings. Peacekeepers had killed my parents a few years back. My older sister had volunteered for me, and died in the final five that same year. Ever since, we'd been on the run. I wasn't about to let myself and Yani be put in one of those nasty orphanages.

"Get up." I hiss. He reluctantly gets up and I snatch up his pillow, shoving it in the bag, pushing a flyaway red curl away from my face.

"Breakfast is on the table. Don't leave any traces."

"Whatever."

"No, not whatever. You have to clean up or the Peacekeepers might get suspicious."

"Fine." He heads to the kitchen, where a bowl of oatmeal and an apple waits for him. I had found the oatmeal in the cellar, and we had gotten a bushel of apples for a very low price a few days ago. I continued with my duty of packing up our belongings, shoving Yani's dirty clothes in a separate bag, and his clean ones in the first bag. We needed to get out of here fast. I was already in my reaping clothes, but Yani had yet to put his on.

Five minutes later, Yani came back, his mouth full of apple pieces, and juice was dribbling down his chin. He wiped it off and I had him put on his reaping outfit.

We headed out the back door with our stuff, jumping the fence and into the nearby alley. I stashed our belongings in a dark corner, covering the bags with a dirty tarp.

"Come on, we have to get to the square!" Twenty minutes later, that's where we were. I waved goodbye as we parted into our sections; Yani in his 13 year old section, and me in my 16 year old one. The mayor was going on and on about the rebellions and how generous the Capitol was, so I just tuned it out until our newest escort, a bubbly lady named Petunia Frost began reaping the girls.

"Syvie Meade!" A blonde thirteen year old girl who reminded me of Yani began freaking out, refusing to go to the stage. _Poor girl_, I thought. Then a flashback popped into my head on that one day three years ago when I was reaped, and how my sister Mirana volunteered for me. My eye twitched in remembrance, and I shouted out two words that I would soon regret.

"I volunteer!"

Tobiah's POV

I wake up to a deadly question in a cheerful voice.

"Tobiah, are you going to volunteer this year?"

"No, I don't think I'm ready yet. I'm going to wait until I'm 18."

"Mhm, okay." My father murmurs, then leaves my room towards the kitchen. He seems sort of disappointed, but I shrug it off, tossing a knife at the target, hitting the second ring. _I need to practice that some more. _I pluck the knife off of the target and toss it across the room onto another target, hitting the inner ring now. I fist-pump the air and leave for the kitchen, where my mother has prepared our family a large plate of eggs and bacon. I lick my lips and fill my plate.

"Thanks." I mumble, chewing my eggs slowly. I grab a slice of bacon from my plate and munch on it thoughtfully.

After we finish breakfast, I head into my room to change into my reaping clothes, which turn out to be a bit big, but I guess I have to deal with that. It's a nice gray suit with a detailed black tie, with a pair of black slacks and soot-colored shoes. I dash downstairs, a big grin on my face.

"Hi Tobiah!" My little sister Naia chirps cheerfully.

"Hey Naia." I grin at her. My father walks in with my brother and my other sister, and my mother trails behind him, wearing a silky blue dress. We leave for the square, not really talking at all.

Naia and I are separated from the rest of the family and we go to the Peacekeeper station, where they identify us. **Everest, Naia. 13/YO/F. **Naia is escorted to her section, and I am left in line. **Everest, Tobiah. 16/YO/M. **A Peacekeeper rudely shoves me towards my section, but I shrug it off. He must've just had a bad day.

Our new escort, Petunia Frost begins to reap the girls, and I zone out, bored. A girl volunteers for some little kid, and a pair of siblings are reaped. Sucks for them.

"Flight Maeste!" She calls out, and a boy immediately volunteers, but he doesn't look so happy. I wonder why...

"Tobiah Everest!" Oh no.

I trudge up to the stage, head held high. I scan the crowds, and catch Naia's terrified gaze. I mouth, _It'll be okay _to her, and remain silent as the other boy gets reaped.

"Trynt Narusi!" She trills, and a shout comes from the crowd.

"I volunteer!" A dangerous-looking 18 year old steps out from his section and onto the stage. According to him, his name's Regnar.

Petunia has us all shake hands and exit to the Justice Building, as she cheerfully babbles on about how excited she is.

Lilliana's POV

Taya shakes me gently, and my eyes fly open. I smile up at my sister and sit up in bed.

"Morning sweetie." She murmurs and I reach my arms out to hug her. We embrace and I get out of bed, holding her hand into the hallway and into the kitchen, where a small pile of biscuits awaits, along with three glasses of orange juice that Taya had prepared for us.

"Thanks Taya." I mumble, as I bite into a biscuit, carefully dolloped with butter. Our father swaggers in, gulping down a bottle of whiskey, and swearing loudly.

"Taya, you little f*ck, I wanted eggs today! NOT F*CKING BISCUITS!" He screams and throws the bottle at Taya's head. She ducks and I freeze in terror, watching. He rambles on about how Taya's a stupid, lazy b*tch, and then runs forward, slapping her across the cheek. I scream.

"Papa, don't hurt Taya! Please don't hurt Taya!"

"SHUT UP LILLIANA! THIS ISN'T ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS!" He screeches, and I cower in fear.

"Lilliana, take a biscuit and go to your room. Please." Taya says, and I do as she asks, snatching up my glass of orange juice and a new biscuit. Once I reach my room, I cover my ears with a pillow, drowning out the screaming. _I hope Papa won't hurt Taya. _

I notice that my door's open and I close it tightly, shutting out most of the noise. Taking my opportunity, I get dressed for my first reaping, putting on a light blue flowered dress and my favorite necklace, one with blue fish pendants on it. I slip into a pair of brown sandals and sit on my bed, waiting for Taya to get me. The screaming dies down, and soon Taya's outside my room, knocking.

"Taya, you can come in." I smile, and Taya barges in, a big purple bruise forming on her cheek where Papa hit her.

"Did Papa hit you again, Taya?"

"Yes, Lilliana, but you don't need to worry about me." I frown, and then take a sip of the untouched orange juice on my bedstand. The biscuit has already cooled, but I take a bite of it too. The wonderful taste explodes in my mouth and I aah in pleasure. Taya smiles at me, and says that she's going to go to her room and change.

Five minutes later, Taya appears in a lovely flowy blue dress and earrings with fish pendants, the match to my necklace. I have already finished my breakfast, and crumbs stuck to my dress like glue. Taya brushes them off and hugs me.

"Ready to go? It's your first reaping."

"Taya, I'm scared."

"Don't be. There's only one slip with your name on it. I won't let you get reaped."

"Okay." We slip out my door and past my father, out the door and onto the street. A breeze lifts our hair in the air gently and I smile. It's a hot day, so the breeze is well appreciated.

Taya and I part as the Peacekeeper people escort us to our sections. I wave to Taya from my twelve-year old section and she smiles gently back at me. No matter what Taya says, I'm still scared.

Our escort, a pretty lady named Petunia Frost began with the girls, after the mayor finished his long speech (which I did not understand a word of).

"Syvie Meade!" A girl begins to freak out, crying, but luckily for her, a girl named Kitari volunteers for her. Then the worst thing possible happens.

"Taya Mell!"

My sister got reaped. A tear slides down my cheek, and I want to scream "NOO! TAYA!", but no words come out of my mouth. Taya, her head low, began to trudge up to the stage, and we were both shocked by the next name.

"Lilliana Mell!" I almost scream. Taya and I _both_ got reaped? Tears began to flow freely from my eyes and I feel an emptiness that I've never felt before. My body freezes, and I just stare at Taya. A Peacekeeper picks me up gently and carries me up to the stage, seemingly annoyed.

Taya looks down at me sadly as we stand next to each other, not paying attention to anything except each other.

"It'll be okay." She murmurs, and I break out in tears again.

Regnar's POV

I wave hello to my friend Fera as I walk out the door, fully dressed in my reaping clothes. She walks over towards me, and I grin. She asks me a question that I already know the answer to.

"Are you going to volunteer today?"

"Yeah..."

"You have to be careful, you know that, right?"

"I know," I think to myself, _I'm not stupid, Fera. _

We walk to the square together, talking occasionally, but mostly staying silent. Then Fera pipes up.

"Well, good luck today. You'd better win."

"Yeah, thanks. Believe me, I will."

We stand in line to get identified and categorized, and Fera gets in line before me, which slightly annoys me, but I don't show it. I toss my sand blonde hair away from my face, my sea blue eyes glinting. We finally get to the front of the line, and Fera and I get our fingers pricked, then we part to our sections; Fera to her 18/F section, and me to my 18/M section.

The mayor was going on and on with his usual boring speech, and I glanced at Fera, bored. She caught my gaze and nodded knowingly. The speeches were always boring.

Soon, our escort has already reaped the girls and has moved onto the boys, and has just reaped the final boy, before I realize that my chance is almost gone.

"I VOLUNTEER!" I yell and my strong voice rips out through the crowd.

"I volunteer as a male tribute."

Taya's POV

Lilliana and I arrive at the square and get ourselves identified and separated into our sections. By the time I get into my section, the mayor is already half-done with his speech. He drawls on for another fifteen minutes, and concludes with introducing our newest escort. Last year's got murdered by a tribute...needless to say, that tribute didn't win.

"Hello District Four! I'm your replacement escort, Petunia Frost!" our escort announced in a very high pitched voice that annoyed my ears. I could see that some of the other kids were covering their ears from the high pitched noise.

"Let's start with the girls, gotta stay with tradition, don't we?" She winked, giving a grin. _Fake..._I thought, and I glance at Lilliana, who's positioned a few hundred kids away in another section. She doesn't notice my gaze, but she seems worried. _I hope she won't get reaped..._

"Syvie Meade!" Petunia chirps, and a girl begins to freak out and cry. An older girl my age saves her by volunteering. I hope that girl can survive...

"Taya Mell!" Oh no! That's me! I look backwards and Lilliana's giving me a terrified look. My head sags low as I trudge up to the stage, not wanting to have to be in closer range with Petunia's high pitched voice. Right when I'm closest to her, she calls out the next name, and her voice almost deafens my ears. The name that sends my life spinning into a living hell.

"Lilliana Mell!"

**Note: Sorry guys, new note. Please review and tell your friends. :D **


	7. District Five Reaping

_**Note: Guys, I'm really sorry, but Reapings bore me to death. So they'll probably be getting shorter. Okay fine, they're gonna be a lot shorter, because there's not much to do with Reapings, plus I'm sorta lazy...anyways, see ya at District 6's Reaping. T_T Will update soon.**_

_**Oh and I hope I got your tributes right...**_

**Tyler's POV**

As I step out of my house, I see a girl a bit older than me walking down the street, and decide to whistle seductively at her. She glares at me, which is weird. All girls like me. My little sister tries to tag along, but I tell her to wait with Father. I love that little girl. Mother died in childbirth with her, so she's the only thing I have to remember Mother. I spot a kitten climbing up a fence and can't help but let out an "Awww."

I love kittens, puppies and of course, abstract art, since we own so much of it. My head tilted to the side cockily, I set off to the plaza, grinning at any girl that even glanced at me.

Once I reach the plaza, I step into line to get identified, while thinking to myself, _If I got reaped, I bet I could win. My Great-Grandfather won many years back, and so can I. _

Soon I reach the head of the line, and a Peacekeeper pricks my finger and reads what the device says. **Skycrack, Tyler. 17/M**. Another Peacekeeper points to my section, and I waltz over there, standing next to a boy from my class, who gives me a glare for some reason. I focus my attention on the girls' section, winking at a couple of them, who surprisingly give me angry looks. Guess they don't want my wonderful charm today.

Next thing I know, our escort, a man named Garnet Tang had already begun reaping the girls.

"Veruca Silver!" He grins, seemingly loving the whole thing.

"Patch Belmier!"

"Sirena Winterbrie!"

Garnet moves on to the boys, smiling happily.

"Tyler Skycrack!" Okay, maybe I wouldn't be able to win the Games. Especially the quell...

"Kinet Forsye!"

"Cedar Cashore!"

**Veruca's POV**

"...Daddy?" I ask.

"Yes, Veruca?"

"Can we get a puppy?"

"Of course, darling!"

"Yay, I love you Daddy!" I trill and prance towards my room. It's Reaping day today, and I need at least two hours to look my best. I step into my room, closing the door silently after me. I toss a wavy lock of my brown hair to the side, and stride over to my gigantic closet. I flip through hundreds of dresses, then finally choosing an incredibly stylish red dress with a velvet sash and sparkling gemstones lining each layer of the dress. I spin the dress around, and it just _gleams_! I quickly throw off my silk pajamas, tossing them on the floor, not caring the least about them. My mind was on that dress right now. It was so glamorous, perfect for yours truly. I slip into the dress and twirl, staring at myself lovingly in the mirror. _I'm so amazing. _I take it off and place it gently on my bed, rushing to my personal bathroom to take a shower.

Half an hour later, I step out of the shower, sopping wet. I snatch a towel from a drawer and wrap it around my body, grabbing my hair dryer and drying my hair. I then applied a special hairspray that softens it and makes it silky. I have to look nice for the Reaping, don't I?

Next, I style my hair, letting it fall in gentle curls down to my chest. I pluck my make-up kit from my drawer and retrieve my mascara, carefully applying it to my eyelashes. Next, I put on some rose-colored blush and pat it onto my cheeks, then apply gobs of lipstick. I examine myself and smile gently. I look perfect. I stride confidently into my room and put on the dress, twirling in it again. I check the clock. It reads **1:03 PM**. Oh no, I should probably get going for the plaza. I fit a pair of black high heels on, leave my room and walk out the door towards the plaza.

"Ouch! Be careful! I'm the mayor's daughter, for Panem's sake!"

"Sorry, miss."

"I sure hope you are." I flip a lock of my hair and walk towards my 15 year old section, gabbing to my friend Patch, (who seriously annoys me), where I wait next to her, feeling irritated by Daddy's usual boring speech. Finally, he lets the escort begin reaping the tributes.

"Veruca Silver!" I gasp in shock. I couldn't have just been reaped. I can see a look of pain in Daddy's eyes, as I wait. Someone _has _to volunteer. Patch looks away as I glance to her. _Bitch. _

But nobody volunteers, and a Peacekeeper rudely pushes me forwards.

"Hey, watch it!" I shove his hands away from my arm and walk up to the stage, flipping my hair arrogantly, "I'm the Mayor's daughter, for Panem's sake!"

**Cedar's POV**

I look over nervously at the huge array of my siblings, half of them standing in their sections for the reaping, and the other half fidgeting nervously on the sidelines, hoping nobody in our family would get reaped. The mayor was almost done with his usual Reaping speech, about how the Capitol began the Hunger Games after the first rebellion, and how it survived the second one. The speech was ever so boring, and I quickly zoned out.

A boy beside me nudged me roughly and I turned to look at him. He was grinning evilly. I scooched away from him, looking down. He smirked.

"We'll begin with the girls, as always." Our escort, a man named Garnet Tang announced.

"Veruca Silver!" The girl turned out to be the Mayor's daughter, and boy, did she make a fuss.

"Sirena Winterbrie!" A small girl no older than twelve walked up to the stage sadly.

"Patch Belmier!" Here, I zoned out again. I never liked seeing some kid be reaped to go to their deaths, anyways.

"On to the boys!" He called out.

"Tyler Skycrack!" Good, it wasn't me.

"Kinet Forsye!" Still not me.

"Cedar Cashore!" Crap. The boy next to me nudged me violently again, grinning. Now that I saw his face, I realized that he was in my History class. He was one of the popular boys, unlike me. I didn't have any friends. Just a lot of siblings.

I began to slowly shuffle up to the stage, my head low. Sadly, I didn't see the first step of the stairs to the stage, and I tripped, landing splat on my face. I turned beet red and scrambled to get up. Of course I'd make fun of myself in front of all of District Five. Then a thought popped into my head. _Not all of District Five, all of Panem. The reapings are filmed, you know. _

My cheeks turned even redder as I stumbled onto the stage, taking my spot beside the other five tributes.

**Patch's POV**

As I walk out of my house, dressed in a cute black skirt and blue shirt, I notice my friend Veruca Silver strutting down the street, wearing an elegant and stylish red dress. I skip over to her, grinning cockily.

"Hey Veruca!"

"Hey Patch." She smiles.

"Nervous for the reaping?"

"Why would I be? Daddy would never let me get reaped."

"Lucky. My father doesn't have _that_ much power."

She simply smiles, giving off her usual _I'm better than you _air. We walk together to the plaza, then get identified, and we talk excitedly about the puppy she's going to get while standing in our spots. She quiets once her father, the mayor, begins his usual boring speech. Veruca hates speeches and lectures. But then again, who doesn't?

Her father finally finishes his speech, and hands over the microphone to the escort, a bubbly man named Garnet Tang, who quickly begins to reap the girls.

"Veruca Silver!" Oh god, it's Veruca. She seems to think someone's going to volunteer, but nobody wants to die, especially for her. No offense, but she can be such a bitch. I can see her looking at me, so I glance away. I'm not volunteering for her. She finally figures that out and begins to have a fit once a Peacekeeper tries to get her to go to the stage. She's so pathetic sometimes.

Garnet waits for her patiently, then moves on to the other girls.

"Sirena Winterbrie!" He announces, smiling cheekily.

"Patch Belmier!" Oh great. Now I have to be in the Games, not to mention with _Veruca. _Oh well, she can be nice sometimes. Hopefully she will be soon, now that she knows she's gonna die soon. I, on the other hand, won't. I can win these silly Games.

I laugh and walk up to the stage, smiling at the crowds. They must think I'm crazy, but I'm not. I just know I'm gonna win.

**Kinet's POV**

You may think this is strange, but I'm sort of excited for the Reaping. It brings adventure into my life, whether I get reaped or not. The sheer terror of being reaped is what I like most.

The mayor goes on with his dull speech, and I glance over at my siblings to pass the time. They were both standing in their sections, looking nervous, especially my younger sister. It was her first reaping.

The mayor went on with his designated speech, "The Capitol defeated the armies of the rebels during the First Rebellion..." and he continued, boring me to death.

I twiddle my fingers, trying to lessen my boredom. It hardly works. I look over at the boys around me. A few kids I know from school, but I'm usually too shy to talk to them. The other kids are just the rebel teens that I've heard about; the ones that skip school and like to decorate people's houses with toilet paper.

"Take it away, Garnet!" The mayor declares, and hands the mic to the escort.

"We'll begin with the girls, as always!" I let my eyes go out of focus and my mind went into a state of emptiness. I wasn't thinking, nor reacting. I could barely hear the three girls he reaped.

"Veruca Silver!"

"Sirena Winterbrie!"

"Patch Belmier!"

"On to the boys!" He announced. I tried to force myself back into consciousness, but my eyes wouldn't focus, nor would my mind think.

"Tyler Skycrack!" My eyes were half-focused, and my mind drowsy with boredom.

"Kinet Forsye!" I snapped into focus. I just got reaped. Finally, something _interesting _was happening in my life. Even though being reaped was potentially deadly, my heart was pounding with excitement. And yet, at the same time, I seemed to be doubting my ability to win. The utter thrill overwhelmed me and I strode up to the stage with a cheeky grin.

**Sirena's POV**

I walk alongside my parents, holding my little sister, Lina's hand tightly as she bounced around, giggling. Lina was so cute, and I loved her 'til the end. We were heading to the Reaping. I was eligible this year, since of the Quell. Luckily, Lina was safe this year. I don't know what I'd do if she were to be reaped.

"Sirena, are you nervous?" My mother asked me worriedly.

"A bit."

"Don't be." My father chimed in, "Your name is only in there once. What's the chance you'll get reaped?"

I blew a strand of my chocolate brown hair away from my face. Lina grinned up at me, asking, "Sirena, will you give me a piggy-back ride?"

I laugh and nod, "Hop on." I bend down and Lina jumps on me, holding on tightly. She giggles, "Giddy-yap, Sirena!" My parents both laugh as I trot off with Lina in tow.

We arrive at the plaza at exactly 1:30 PM, and I wave goodbye to my family as I dash towards line to get identified. I reach the line and wait for a few minutes, until finally the boy ahead of me gets his finger pricked and it's my turn.

"Give me your finger." The Peacekeeper instructs. I do as he tells me, wincing slightly as the blood drops from my index finger. **Winterbrie/Sirena. 11/F **Another Peacekeeper, a man with pale hair and blue eyes, points me out towards the new 11 year old female section. I shuffle over towards the section, keeping my eyes straight ahead, not paying attention to anyone. I can hear a few girls from school snickering and gossiping about something. My body slouches slightly, and I look at the sky.

Next thing I know, the bubbly escort has called out my name.

"Sirena Winterbrie!" He announces, and everything around me slows down. I just got reaped. Father was wrong. Holy Panem, I just got reaped.

I take a deep breath, and everything goes back to normal pace again. I breathe a few more times, my mind completely silent as I march up to the stage, my face completely emotionless. My heart feels numb, and I feel so dead inside. I scan the crowd and find my parents and Lina. Mother is crying and Father is hugging Lina, who has no idea what's going on.

My expression remains blank as I shake the other tributes' hands, walk off the stage, and into the Justice Building.


	8. District Six Reaping

_**Note: I will be updating somewhat faster now, trying to finish reapings by the end of summer. But I have a 3 week camp for the next 3 weeks, so that might slow me down. God reapings are boring. Once summer ends, I'll be a lot slower to update. Damn you school. T_T Oh and please check out my friend escope789's SYOT. Just search him up.**_

_**And now, I give you...District 6's Reaping! **_

**Alexander's POV **

I yawn as I stumble out of bed, down the stairs and towards the kitchen, where I fix myself a bowl of cereal. A note from my father is on the table, which surprises me, because he usually doesn't care enough to leave a note.

"_Alexander, I had to leave early. Peacekeeper duties. Don't get in trouble,"_ is what it reads. I check the clock. **12:57 PM**. Wow, I slept in.

I gobble down the cereal and charge up the stairs again to my room. I quickly open a drawer, where my yearly reaping clothes lie. I jump out of my pajamas and into the reaping clothes, completely forgetting to comb my hair or wash my face. I search my closet for my shoes, but they are nowhere to be found. Oh well.

I shuffle out of my room and down the stairs, where I trip over the shoes I had been looking for earlier, tumbling down the stairs and bruising my face slightly. Whoops, guess I left them on the stairs. Silly me. I climb up the stairs again to get the shoes and do a faceplant, tripping over the shoes again. I finally manage to grab the shoes and put them on, clomping down the stairs and out the front door. I put the key in and lock the door. Then I smack my face in idiocy. I forgot to get the jacket for the suit. I unlock the door again, tromp up to my room, leaving the front door completely open for burglars, and grab my jacket. I put it on and hear a faint rustling downstairs. I shuffle to the edge of the stairs, to find that our TV and a few electronics have been stolen. I had left the door open. Silly, silly, silly me!

I finally leave the house, locking the door and skipping on to the street. My shoes are a little big, but I don't care. Until I find myself face-down in the mud. I had tripped again. Silly.

I notice a girl I know from my Science class; I think her name is Ana.

"HEY ANA! ANA! ANA, HEY!"

She turns around and groans. I run up to her, tapping her shoulder.

"Ana, are you excited for the Reaping? Are you? Are you?"

"Alexander, will you _please_ leave me alone?" I ignore her sentence and continue to pester her.

"Ana, I like your dress." She shudders, and quickens her pace. I do the same.

"Ana, Ana, talk to me!"

"No."

"AHA! YOU TALKED TO ME!"

"...oh sweet Panem, save me..." She breaks out into a run, and I struggle to keep up with her. Finally, she turns a corner and I can't see her anymore. I break out in tears.

"Waaah! Ana doesn't like meeeee!"

I turn a corner and head for the square, where the exciting Reapings occur. I see Ana standing in a line and sprint towards it.

"HI ANA!"

"Oh sweet Panem, not you again!" She groans again, rubbing her hands through her hair irritably.

"Ana, why are you mad at me?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE AN ANNOYING LITTLE F*CK!" Two Peacekeepers glare at us, one of them being my father.

"Ana, you shouldn't swear." I wave at my father, but he just growls something under his breath and looks away. Ana gets to the front of the line and leaves in a hurry once her finger gets pricked. I smile at the Peacekeeper in front of me as he pricks my finger and identifies me. **Marten/Alexander. 13/M** Another Peacekeeper ushers me to my section, where I wait, bored. I begin to chatter non-stop to my neighbor, who sighs and turns away.

Our escort, a funny-looking lady named Priefe, who had curly blonde hair with a hue of blue in them, and silly yellow eyes, waits patiently as our mayor finishes up her long speech.

Priefe immediately grabs the mic as soon as the mayor finishes and glares us all down, smiling creepily.

"Hello District Siiix!"

A few murmurs come through the crowd, "Hello..."

"That's not loud enough! Hello District Six!"

"HELLO!" screams the crowd.

"That's better! Now, just to spice things up a bit, let's begin with the boys!" She cackles, still smiling as she plucks a slip with someone's name on it from the reaping bowl.

"Alexander Marten, you lucky boy, get on up here!"

I am so scared right now that I scream, "MOMMY I'M SCARED!" even though Mommy's dead. I break out in tears. The lady scares me and I don't want to be a part of the Games.

"WAAAAAAAAAH!" I scream, tears spilling out of my eyes. The crowd parts for me, glad to get rid of me. Two Peacekeeper grab me by the arms and drag me onstage. I'm still bawling.

**Kara's POV**

I leave the house, holding Rune's hand tightly; our bellies full of fresh bread that I managed to get on sale at the bakery. She skips alongside my long stride as we walk towards the square. We left Father behind, because I didn't want to witness his morning rantings. But he knows his way to the square, so he should be fine.

Rune begins to hum a joyous tune and I join in, whistling. She smiles up at me and I ruffle her hair as she giggles happily. A wind picks up, and my identical braids gently fly along with it. Rune's copper hair whips back and forth, swaying with the wind.

"Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down!" Rune sings. It's an old song from pre-Panem times, something about the Black Death... whatever that is.

We arrive at the square about fifteen minutes later, Rune still humming.

"Rune, you're gonna have to stand over there," I point to a lone oak tree, standing tall by the sidelines, "I just have to get through with the Reapings, and then I'll meet you there. But if my name gets called and I have to go onstage, just go back home and wait for Father. You know the way."

She nods enthusiastically. She has no idea; I never let her watch the Hunger Games. Hopefully I won't be reaped.

I watch as Rune skips over to the oak tree, then get into line. I think that's what you're supposed to do, because there's a bunch of kids there waiting too. The line recedes in front of me, and a Peacekeeper orders the girl in front of me to give him her finger. She does so, and once it's my turn, I do the same as she did. I get my finger pricked and they identify me via a droplet of my blood. **Mukayrd, Kara. 11/F**. Another Peacekeeper shoves me towards a section where other girls my age stand, bored.

I step into the section and wait as the mayor begins his speech.

"Kara Mukayrd!" Our bluish blonde-haired escort announced. I gasp, completely terrified. I couldn't have been reaped. The girls surrounding me parted, and I was given a gentle shove. I took a deep breath, hardened my face and walked up to the stage bravely. I could see Rune looking puzzled by the oak tree. I almost teared up at the sight. Poor Rune, she had no idea that I was probably going to my death.

**Frank's POV**

Rebecca ushers me out the door, shielding her face as I cough violently. Mother and Father trail behind her, closing the door to our small house behind them. We have to go to the pharmacist before the Reaping, so that I wouldn't get any worse. Rebecca's dressed in her nicest clothing, a patched up skirt and a white shirt. I'm wearing an old gray suit and vest. It's small on me, because I've worn it for the past three reapings. The ground is still muddy from yesterday's rain, and the morning air is misty, forming tiny rainbows when the sun shines upon it. It's a beautiful sight on a horrible day.

Rebecca, Mother, Father and I slosh through the mud towards the pharmacist's, all of our measly savings in hand. They spend all their earned money on me. I limp behind Rebecca, trailing after them slowly. My disease causes me many ailments; I can't walk very well, I sleep the whole day and I get terrible migraines all the time.

I rub my forehead as a headache spasms through my body. My family doesn't notice, but I'm glad. They don't need any more troubles. I've even considered suicide.

"Frank, we're almost there."

"Okay..." I mumble, my head throbbing with pain. I concentrate on taking one step, then another, and another. I have to keep going.

I've been sick ever since I was 14. Six years ago, this all began. It never got better, always worse.

We finally arrived at the pharmacist and I collapsed into a chair, waiting with Rebecca as my parents bought the drugs I needed to stay alive. Once my parents got the pills, Rebecca got up and asked for a cup of water, while my parents handed me four of the little tablets.

"Drink up." Rebecca murmurs, handing me the small paper cup. I hold out a trembling hand and take the cup, dropping the tablets onto my waiting tongue and gulping them down with the water. I immediately feel dizzy and drop the half-empty cup onto the floor, where it twirls once, spilling the water everywhere.

"Sorry..." I stammer as Rebecca gets on the floor to mop it up with a few Kleenexes she had in her pocket.

"Come on, we need to get to the square for the Reaping. Both of you are eligible this year." My father says, and I struggle to get up. Rebecca gives me a sad look and helps me stand up.

We leave the pharmacist and go back onto the muddy street.

Half an hour later, we arrive at the square. It's exactly 2 PM, so Rebecca and I dash towards the lingering line to get identified, me limping slowly behind Rebecca, her brown hair flying as she ran.

"Give me your finger." a Peacekeeper hisses at Rebecca, who sticks out her index finger and looks away as they press a device to the tip and extracted a drop of her blood. **de Boer/Rebecca. 15/F**. I can barely make out what the device reads. The Peacekeeper pushes her finger onto a sheet of paper, under her name. He points her into the fifteen year old female section, and she trots off. I stumble forwards, giving my finger to the Peacekeeper, flinching as the blood is extracted.

"Over there..." the Peacekeeper looks down at the device, "Frank." He nods towards the newly added 20 year old section, and I stagger over there, remembering something I had been told a few years back.

"_Frank, can I speak to you?" called a richly-dressed man with slick brown hair and piercing blue eyes. _

"_Wh...what do you need?" I pronounce, limping over to him. Two other men appeared from behind him, dressed just like the first man, very rich and fancy. _

"_Frank, we have something to ask of you." the first man announced. _

"_And what is that?" _

"_We know you're...sick and your family spends all their money on you. So we have a proposition for you." _

_I perk up, "What kind of proposition?"_

"_We propose for you to volunteer if any of our sons are reaped. If you do so, your family will be greatly compensated by all of us." _

_I nod quickly, "I'll do it. I'm such a burden to my family, I would do anything to help them. What are your sons' names?" _

"_Petrare Cullin and Roth Cullin are my sons." the first man states. _

"_Ruse Machare, Storm Machare and Delanoy Machare are mine." the second man says._

"_Normann Tristei and Ferkin Tristei." the third man announces, and then all three chime in together, "Remember those names. If you volunteer for one of them if they are to be reaped, your family will be given enough money to survive upon for at least five years, depending on how they spend it." _

"_I will remember, and I will volunteer if needed." _

"_Good." the second man utters, and they all stride away confidently. _

"That's better! Now, just to spice things up a bit, let's begin with the boys!" our escort cackles, and I jerk up, now aware of my surroundings.

"Alexander Marten!" A young boy about 13 begins to cry and freak out, and I feel sad for him. But I don't volunteer. It's not one of the rich men's sons.

"Ruse Machare!" She announces, her bluish blonde curls bouncing. At first I don't register the name, but then it hits me. It's one of the rich sons. So I do the only thing I can do.

"I volunteer!" I scream, then cough violently, "I volunteer."

I begin to stagger up to the stage, smiling at my sister as I pass her. She looks terrified, just like me. I stumble up the steps. Soon this torture will be over. Very soon.

**Mya's POV**

Last year was my last chance to get back at the Capitol. So I thought. But now it's the Quarter Quell, and oh boy am I back. I'm going to volunteer, and I'm going to win. Then the Capitol will face my wrath. They will fall at my hands. I've hated the Capitol ever since they killed my family.

"Give me your finger." I stick out my middle finger, and the Peacekeeper rolls his eyes.

I know exactly how I'm going to win. I know how I'm going to make the Capitol beg for forgiveness at my feet. I'm going to play the weakling, pretend I forget all about how the Capitol had my family killed for speaking out against them. I'm going to weasel into the Capitol, and take revenge upon them for killing my sister. Then on the victor's parade, I'm going to voice my disapproval, to avenge my brother. Then, finally, once President Ash speaks up against me, I'm going to kill her, just like my parents wanted to.

"You going to stand there all day?"

"Sorry..." I stammer, acting embarrassed, then whisper, "...not." He doesn't seem to hear me as I stride off confidently, towards my 19 year old female section.

Oh yes, the Capitol is going to pay very dearly for my family's death. Not to mention every single death they have caused in the Hunger Games. Every death they have ever caused will be avenged. And I will be the one to give them what they deserve.

"Now we'll begin the reaping of the girls!"

"Streph Magie!"

"I volunteer!" I shout, taking my chance at revenge. No, not my chance. The beginning step to my victory.

_**AND A QUICK NOTE: Sorry that Mya's reaping was so short, but I thought that leaving it short would add up to the suspense. :D Now I shall continue. **_

**Hamish's POV**

"Come on Adrina, come on Lucy! Let's go, Grandma, to the Reaping!" I sing, my mind full of joy. The Hunger Games seems like a really fun game, and I can't wait to hear more about it!

Adrina comes bustling out her room, like the hyper 7 year old that she is. She has long brown hair, the same shade as mine and pale gray eyes, like Grandma's. I share my hazel eyes with Lucy.

"I can't wait for the Hunger Games! Can you, Grandma?"

She gazes at me sadly and looks away. I don't understand why, they're just games. Nothing to be sad about. Adrina giggles and bounces over to me, just as Lucy trots happily out of her room, humming.

"La, la, la la la!" Lucy hums, and Adrina joins in, whistling happily.

"Come on children, we better go..." Grandma sighs, pulling on an orange scarf decorated with sparkles, "Hamish, Adrina, Lucy, grab your coats. It's cold out today." Grandma murmurs, handing me my coat from the hanger and watching as Lucy and Adrina stumble to grab their jackets, jumping up and down, trying to reach the top of the hanger.

I skip out the door, Adrina desperately trying to catch up to me, while Lucy and Grandma stayed behind us, walking out the door slowly.

Birds flitted to and from in the skies and I thought to myself. _I like birds. Especially when they sing. _

Adrina grinned, "Wanna race to the square?"

"Yay, I love running!" We speed off, leaving Grandma and Lucy in the dust, Lucy complaining that we always leave her behind.

I end up beating Adrina to the square, and she's pouting by the time Grandma and Lucy arrive. Grandma murmurs to me, "Go to that line over there," she points to a line with some kids waiting, "And do what the men in the white suits ask you, okay Hamish?"

"Okay!" I grin playfully, and head over to the line, where I wait impatiently. The whole process goes by very fast, the man in the white suit, called a Peacekeeper pricks my finger so that he can identify me or something. I think he called it "signing in."

A Peacekeeper guides me towards a large group of boys my age, instructing me to stand there and not to leave unless my name is called. I nod enthusiastically, smiling up at him.

The pretty lady with tumbling bluish blonde locks smiled down at me from on the stage. I smiled back, but she didn't seem to notice, for she was now paying attention to the woman dressed curtly in a dressy suit, who was making a long speech that I was too hyper to listen to.

Once the lady starts speaking, I perk up and smile, listening intently.

"Hello District Siiix!" She squeals.

"Hello..."

"That's not loud enough! Hello District Six!"

"HELLO!"

"That's better! Now, just to spice things up a bit, let's begin with the boys!" She smiles as she plucks a slip with someone's name on it from the reaping bowl.

"Alexander Marten, you lucky boy, get on up here!" An older boy begins to cry, but I don't understand. This is just a game, right?

"Ruse Machare!" A scrawny boy shouts out, "I volunteer!" Now there's the spirit, he likes to play games too! I smile gently and close my eyes, content with the world.

"Hamish Samuels!" The lady called my name! They want _me _to play the games! Yay! I look around, glancing at my grandmother, who looks stricken. I don't understand why. It's just fun and games, nothing to be afraid of. Right?

**Mercedes' POV**

I gently slip my hand into the man's pocket, drawing out a golden pocketwatch and nimbly dancing away. The man doesn't even notice that his watch is gone, he simply goes on his way. I smirk and finger the delicate casing of the watch, then sprint to the pawn shop in the Black Market.

A bell rings, signaling that I have walked into the pawn shop, and I look around for a minute, then walk up to the counter confidently.

"I have something to sell."

"Depending on what it is, I'll buy it."

"It's a golden pocketwatch."

"Show me."

"Here." I snatch the pocketwatch out of my pocket and place it onto the counter. The man picks it up gingerly and examines it for a few minutes. I push away a lock of my chocolate brown hair as I wait.

"I'll give you...$100 for it."

"$150 or no deal."

"$125. Final offer."

"Deal." He hands over a small sack of coins and I drop the pocketwatch in his waiting hand. I spin my heels and stride out the door confidently, slipping the bag into a secret pocket in my skirt.

I head off to the square for the Reaping, not caring a thing about my surroundings, only my destination. I smile at the sound of the coins jingling in my pocket. The money should tide me over for a few weeks. Once I reach the square, I rush through the identification and slip into my section just in time for the mayor to finish his speech. The escort takes center stage and begins to reap the boys, a nice change for once.

"Alexander Marten, you lucky boy, get on up here!"

I finger the coins inside the bag in my pocket and grin.

"Ruse Machare!"

"I volunteer!" cries a sickly looking boy, and I raise my eyebrows. It's strange for a kid like him to volunteer...

"Hamish Samuels!"

"Now we'll begin the reaping of the girls!"

"Streph Magie!"

"I volunteer!" A girl shouts. Weird. Two volunteers from our District.

"Kara Mukayrd!"

"Mercedes Jackson!" Oh boy. I'm gonna be in the Hunger Games. But I definitely could win. I smirk and stride up to the stage, confident as ever.

_**Note: I think I messed up Hamish's reaping a bit...sorry SilverPhoenixFire2000 (pleasedontkillme) Anyways, this one was slightly longer than D5 but mostly just as boring. :-/ I'll post D7's reaping by the end of the weekend. Please review! :D**_


	9. District Seven Reaping

_**Note: Okay I guess I finished D7 pretty fast O.o So do you guys like my new way of identifying tributes? I'm gonna go back and do the same with all the other reapings too. Oh yeah and I renamed the fic. It's now called Terror, the 225th Hunger Games.**_

_**I'm pretty sure I failed this reaping. XP**_

**Jan Oxford's POV**

"I'm heading off to the reaping early, kay?" I yell as I slam the door to our cozy little dwelling. I can hear a faint "Bye Jan!" from my brother Niko and a curt, "Bye," from my parents.

I lied. I hate lying, but my parents don't approve of my going into the forest all the time; they say it's "dangerous.". Instead of going to the reaping early, I'm just going to go to the meadow, located deep in the District Seven forests. Then I'll go to the reapings.

I glance both ways as I leave the house, then dash into the street, in the opposite direction of the plaza. I don't stop for anything, not for a waving acquaintance or a purring cat. I just keep running until I reach the edge of the forest. I whip around, examining my surroundings. Nobody is in sight. The whole world is completely still, just the way I like it. I step into the forest, twigs cracking quietly under my feet. I venture further and further, until the forest completely surrounds me. Anyone besides me would have been lost ages ago. I've been going here ever since I was eight, so I knew this forest like the back of my hand..

Birds chirp all around me and I felt myself being enshrouded by the serenity of it all. The sun cast shadows upon the trees, adding an air of mystery. I continue along the hidden path towards the meadow, looking forward to lying down in the tall grasses and simply forget about everything.

I speedily walk past colorful flitting butterflies and hopping rabbits, weaving through the roots and shrubs until I finally reach the vast, grassy meadow.

I take the little time that I have left to enjoy my surroundings as I lay down in the grass watching as the birds flit to and fro in a graceful manner. I can hear the faint buzzing of a bee pollinating a lone flower nearby me, and I close my eyes, letting my mind go free. Clouds float gently through the sky and I watch them intently, chuckling to myself when I see a shape that reminds me of some animal or plant. I check my grandfather's old pocketwatch lazily. It reads **11:03** **AM**, so I adjust myself and doze off.

I bolt up, my eyes wide open and my heart pounding. I had fallen asleep. I wasn't supposed to fall asleep. I frantically check my pocketwatch, which reads **1:37 PM**.

"CRAP!" I screech, and I can hear a small flock of birds taking flight, surprised at my outburst. I stretch and begin running as fast as I can. Luckily I had been wearing my reaping clothes, so I wouldn't have to stop by home and change. I sprint past the opening to the forest, narrowly dodging a fallen tree trunk and speed down the path, avoiding every root and shrub. I know these woods like the back of my hand. I could get out of here in 10 minutes flat.

Soon, I find myself rushing down the paved streets of District Seven at top speed, my shoes clacking and my coat flying behind me. The sun beams down on me as if saying, "You can do it, Jan."

I'm a naturally fast runner, so I make it to the Reaping just in time, right as the clock strikes 2 PM. I hurry through the identification, although the Peacekeeper in charge is eyeing me, obviously irritated at my lateness. I slip into my 15 year old male section just as the escort begins to reap the boys.

"Jan Oxford!"

My face turns pale at the name. I just got reaped. I'm never going to be able to frolic in the meadow with the animals again. Never race my friends to school again. Never do anything I used to do.

I gulp and head up to the stage, stricken with fear.

**Thread Pinciple's POV**

I yawn and rub my eyes tiredly. I couldn't sleep at all last night. I was just too worried for the Hunger Games. I don't know what I'd do if I were to be reaped. I lie in bed for about half an hour before I finally get up. I glance at the clock. It's already 10 AM.

I step into the shower, hoping to wash all my worries away, but once I get out, I find that it hasn't worked. My usual perky, bubbly personality has disappeared, replaced by a worried, paranoid one. I'm so scared that I'm going to be reaped. I took tesserae this year, and now I have my name in the reaping bowl 5 times, even though I'm only 12. This was one of the worst years for our family. The factory lowered the pay rate recently, and despite my parents and my older sister's efforts, we never seemed to have enough money.

"Hey, Thread..." murmurs my sister Rhythm, her eyes sunken from not getting any sleep.

"Hey, Rhythm."

"Nervous for your first reaping?"

"Yeah..."

"Don't be. You only have your name in a few times."

"I know. But the tesserae..."

"Don't worry about it, Thread. I took tesserae too, remember?"

"Yeah..." I mumble, my eyes on the floor. I'm still nervous, no matter what Rhythm says.

Soon, our whole family is sitting at the rickety old dining table, staring at their half-empty plates, poking the little food we have around the plates. Suddenly, Rhythm stands up, pushes her chair behind her and takes her plate to the sink, sighing, "I'm gonna go get dressed."

I do the same, following her to the corridor then turning opposite directions as she, to my room, where I pick out a short midnight blue dress with long flowing sleeves from my tiny wardrobe, along with a pair of black slip-on shoes.

I step out of my room at the exact same time as Rhythm does from hers. I grin at her and she laughs quietly. We head out of the corridor and into the small living room, where our parents wait for us. My mother's dark brown hair cascades down onto a lovely silver dress and my father is dressed in an old black suit with a red tie. We're all wearing our nicest clothes.

My father adjusts his fedora and coughs, then says, "We should probably go..."

My mother nods and so does Rhythm. We leave the house and I can feel my heart beating faster and faster with every step we take. Minutes tick by and I only get more frazzled.

"Come on, Thread. It's gonna be okay. Calm down." Rhythm murmurs and I grasp her hand tightly. I am terrified right now.

Once we reach the plaza, Rhythm and I part to go stand in line, while Mother and Father nervously exchange glances as they walk to the edge of the crowd.

Ten minutes later, Rhythm and I are standing in our sections, she in her 15 year old section, and me in my 12 year old one. I'm nervously biting my lip as the mayor goes on with his speech until he hands the mic over to a burly man with blazing green eyes, pale violet skin and ebony black hair. He pushes a flyaway strand away from his face and straightens up his pose, looking at us as if we were slaves.

"We shall begin with the girls," he says very curtly, fishing around in a bowl of slips and pausing a few moments before he picked out three slips and read them out slowly.

"Zyvia Hunter."

"I volunteer!" yells a girl who looks distinctly similar to the girl originally reaped. They must be sisters or something... cousins maybe.

"Savette Merklin!"

"I volunteer!" screams a girl. My heart begins to calm down slightly as he asks for the girl's name, but at the next name he calls out, it's pounding as fast as a rabbit's heart, which is around 130-325 beats per minute (we learned this in school).

"Thread Pinciple!" He gazes accusingly over the crowd and I can see Rhythm about to open her mouth, but I step forward, tears freely falling down my cheeks as I shake, completely terrified. I utter one word and Rhythm closes her mouth.

"Don't."

Then I collapse on the ground, rocking myself back and forth as I sob. A few Peacekeepers stride towards me and pick me up, carrying me to the platform.

"I don't want to die..." I whisper, as my consciousness slows down, everything becoming a dark blur as I tumble into the darkness.

**Salin Roth's POV**

My face remains emotionless as the Peacekeeper pricks my finger and points me towards my section. He seems disturbed as my sunken, lifeless gray eyes bore into him as I leave towards my designated area. The mayor goes on with his dull speech as I stand at my spot, blinking occasionally. My arm throbs from the bruise the community home's manager gave me, but I don't flinch. Nothing can ever be as painful as what happened eleven years ago, the day my parents died.

The escort, a cruel, burly-looking man takes the microphone and begins to reap the girls. I feel an empty sorrow for those poor girls who were reaped, but my face remains ever still.

"Time for the boys!" The escort drawls, then plucks three names from the bowl in front of him.

"Tylon Menshir."

"Jan Oxford!"

"Salin Roth." I understand that I was reaped, I understand that the pain would finally be over soon, unless I win. But I had nothing to lose, so either way, I don't care. I walk robotically up to the podium, accepting my fate silently, but my eyes remain vacant. Not a sound is emitted from the crowd as I trudge up to my spot next to the other boys.

**Khairi Gens' POV**

I stride confidently down the street towards the plaza, my shark tooth necklace bouncing against my chest with every step. It had been a keepsake my friend had given me a few years back. She died due to some unknown disease that same year. I don't really remember her well though.

It's reaping day today, and even though I wasn't exactly sure if I wanted to be reaped or not, I knew for a fact that I'd be looking forward to watching the Games. I've had a peculiar interest towards the Games for as long as I can remember. I always loved to watch those kids struggling for survival. People tend to shy away from me because I like the Games, but truthfully, I don't give a crap. I mainly use the Hunger Games for my own purposes; entertainment and technique research in case I ever get reaped.

I trot across the plaza towards the area where the annual reapings are held, and into the sign-in line. Now, I soften my face and smile idiotically. I need to prepare my dumb girl card in case if I am reaped. Or if I volunteer. I doubt I will though.

I rush through the sign-in/identification or whatever and shuffle towards my section, my heart filled with anticipation. I was especially intrigued in this Quell, for there were 78 tributes, not the usual 26.

The mayor surprisingly gets done with the usual speech pretty quickly, and hands the mic over to a creepy, burly man, who supposedly is our escort.

"We shall begin with the girls," are his first words, before he quickly goes to choose 3 slips from the bowl.

"Zyvia Hunter."

"I volunteer!" yells a girl.

"Savette Merklin!" A girl from a section behind me breaks out in pathetic tears, and I glance at her. She's actually pretty, with flowing auburn hair and piercing brown eyes. She seems to have tan skin, but I can't tell, because she's turned so pale.

"I volunteer!" I scream. I have a way better chance than she does. I know some good techniques and besides, it'll be interesting to compete. Plus, I want to avenge my father's gory death 13 years ago, in the 212th Hunger Games.

"What's your name?"

"Khairi. Khairi Gens."

**Tylon Menshir's POV**

I glance at my brother, from my spot in the 17 year old male section. He's patrolling the sidelines of the plaza. He's a Peacekeeper, and also my trainer. He's been training me for the Games in case I ever get reaped, for as long as I can remember.

I glance at my old watch, and it reads **10:35 AM. **I've been here for a couple hours now, I had to come here early with my brother since his Peacekeeper duties began early. My parents had already left by the time I woke up, so it was just my brother and I.

The mayor coughs as he sits in his chair up on the stage, located next to the escort's chair. This year's escort had ebony black hair, fierce green eyes and pale violet skin; a common escort, minus his dark personality. He was wearing a dark gray coat and pale yellow slacks with a large blue belt.

I wait patiently as children mill about, chattering with their friends before they stand in their designated spots, whispering quietly.

Hours pass as I stand there, my legs growing tired and my feet falling asleep. Finally, the mayor coughs again and grabs the microphone from its stand, beginning his long speech about the history of the Hunger Games. It's not as if we didn't already learn this in school...

I patiently wait as the mayor finishes up his speech, handing the mic to the pale violet-skinned escort, who snatches it up impatiently.

"We shall begin with the girls,"

"Zyvia Hunter."

"I volunteer!" yells a confident-looking girl younger than Zyvia, who just stepped back into her section, both relieved and stricken.

"Savette Merklin!"

"I volunteer!" screeches a girl not too much older than the original tribute.

"What's your name?"

"Khairi. Khairi Gens."

"Let's continue."

"Thread Pinciple!" he announces, and I give a small sigh after seeing the girl reaped. She's so tiny...

"On to the boys!"

"Tylon Menshir." I closed my eyes, opened them again and walk up to the stage calmly. Once I get there, he continues to reap the remaining two boys.

"Jan Oxford!"

"Salin Roth!"

**Zatara Alex Hunter's POV**

"Zatara Alex Hunter. Wake up," my sister Zyvia says, prodding me gently with her finger.

"Fine... why so early, anyways?"

"Zatara, it's not early. Hardly. It's 11:45, and today's reaping day."

"Oh great." I shove the covers of my bed off, stepping gently onto the cold hardwood floor of our two-story house. I can hear the faint joyous screams of my three younger siblings, Zane, Zay (twins) and Alixx as they prance about in the hallways.

I yawn lazily, and Zyvia leaves the room, quietly laughing. No matter what she does, I can't help but love her. She's 3 years older than me, and we thought she was safe from the reaping until they announced the Quarter Quell's twist. Now Zyvia had her name in the reaping bowl 13 times, since she took tesserae her first year, before our parents got a raise at the lumber yard. I have it in there 5 times. Zane and Zay both have it in there 1 time, they were both 9 and now eligible for the Reaping because of the Quell. Alixx was safe, at the young age of 5.

I trudge down the stairs and into the kitchen, where my mother gazes lovingly down at me, laughing, "You sure slept in. Here, take your breakfast. Everyone else has already eaten."

"Thanks," I murmur as I take the bowl, which is filled with piping hot oatmeal and drizzled with sugar, "Oh mother, you sure do know what I like best." I grin at her, sitting down in a chair by the counter.

"Zatara, I've known you since you were born. I think I'd know what your favorite breakfast is." She chuckles.

"Oh right..." I laugh and dig in to the delicious oatmeal, stirring the sugar in, then popping a large spoonful into my waiting mouth. I sigh, pleased by the wonderful taste of sugary oatmeal melting my mouth.

Once I finish the oatmeal, I get up and take the bowl to the sink, dunking it in the soapy water. I then leave the kitchen, bustling up the stairs and into my room, where I stride over to my closet and pick out a forest green dress for my reaping outfit. I slip out of my powder blue pajamas, fit on my underclothes and step into the dress, zipping up the back.

Twenty minutes later, I'm in the living room, gazing at Zyvia's beautiful violet dress, while Zay and Zane jump around, impatient to leave the house. They're dressed in identical ash gray suits, and boy do they look adorable. Alixx is wearing a flower-printed dress, and is clinging to Mother, who's dressed in a white dress that makes her look like a complete angel. Father comes out from his and Mother's room, wearing a suit identical to Zay and Zane's, only larger.

"Ready to go?" He says gruffly, which is strange for him. He must be just nervous that four of his children are eligible to be reaped this year.

"Yeah," Zyvia and I say at the exact same time, then we burst out laughing. Zane, Zay and Alixx laugh with us as we grin. Ah, those short, happy moments...

We leave the house and arrive at the plaza ten minutes later, since our house isn't too far from it. Zay, Zane, Zyvia and I go over to the line to sign in while Alixx and our parents stand to the side.

Next thing I know, I'm already standing in place, waiting to get this whole thing over with. I'm just hoping none of us will be reaped so that we can go back to living our lives.

I glance around, noticing all the nervous faces around me. I can see a few brave faces, but I can tell that most of them are just acting brave, but are truly terrified inside.

Our escort, one of the usual Capitolians, is dressed in an extravagant suit, and he has pale violet skin with green eyes and ebony black hair. He seems slightly depressed, but once he begins to speak, I can tell he's not depressed, he just has a very dark personality.

"We shall begin with the girls,"

"Zyvia Hunter."

The name rings throughout my head. At first, it doesn't register and I'm simply glad it's not me. Then I notice who exactly it is. It's my sister. My older sister. Now I'm screaming out two words that I know Zyvia would kill me for saying.

"I volunteer!" I could win these Games, but I know Zyvia wouldn't be able to. I'm a great sprinter, not to mention a great team leader. I have amazing photographic memory and I've had some practice with axes, but I'm a lot better with swords. I had found a pair of dueling swords abandoned in the trash bins while walking home from school one day. I took them home and practiced with a dummy that my father had made for me, and I grew very skilled with them. I have great aim and I tried out archery a few times, and I found that I wasn't so bad at it.

I strode up to the stage confidently, giving off an intimidating aura as I stand on the stage, my eyes cold and my mouth forming a small smirk.

_**Note: God I feel like I messed up Zatara... sorry Hayley TT Showbiz... don't kill me...**_

_**And yes, I am aware that I suck at past and present tense. I'll try to publish D8's reaping tomorrow or Monday. **_


	10. District Eight Reaping

_**Note: Okay, that was a REALLY slow update. I've been so busy lately (3 week drama camp); boredom and crashing at 3 PM because I'm so tired. Not to mention having to memorize songs and lines for the play we're performing for the camp. Reapings continue to be boring, and I'm sorta depressed right now, sooo...**_

_**Oh and you guys should check out Val H's fanfic Ella's Rose, it seems pretty damn interesting 8D **_

**Dyrk Meade's POV**

I twirl one of my blonde curls and hum a joyful tune, watching as my mother flips a pancake. I smile brightly at her. She seems to notice, even though her head is turned away from me, so she turns around and faces me.

"Dyrk, dearie. You need to know something..."

"What?" I grin up at her.

"You're eligible for the reaping this year... but you won't get reaped. Don't worry."

"What's the reaping?"

"It's when children are chosen to go to the Capitol and...go in an arena." She smiles weakly.

"What do they do in the arena?"

"You shouldn't worry about that, there's no chance you'll get reaped." She bites her lip nervously, but I shrug it off. Whatever Mommy says, must be right. I smile up at her as she plops a golden pancake onto my plate.

"Syrup please!" I chirp, and a small bottle of syrup is passed to me. I pour it over the pancake, gazing at it intently as the syrup spills over the pancake and into a pool on the plate. I grin and dig into the warm, gooey goodness.

-.-.-.-

"Dyrk Meade!" The woman onstage, a lady with neon orange hair and dark skin and a piercing smile, calls out. I blink, surprised. Mommy said I wouldn't be reaped, but I guess she's wrong. I look over at my friend Jone, who looks just as bewildered as I do.

"Come on up, Dyrk! I don't bite!" She winks, and she seemed nice to me, so I headed up towards her, my eyes alert, not understanding why people were murmuring sadly. I smile and tune out my surroundings, only paying attention to my imagination.

**Mita Knocka's POV**

I bury my nose in a book about physics as I walk down the cobbled street towards the square where the annual Reapings are held. A posse of girls snicker at me as I pass by them, and I can hear them whispering cruel things about me.

"Nerd..."

My head hangs low and I speed up, eager to get away from the girls and their disgusting gossip. I absolutely detest girls like that. Snobby, popular girls who think they're the queens of the world and they deserve everything. The girls that get away with everything, even drugs, for Panem's sake.

I could hear a large array of hushed murmurs, so I looked up, finding that I had arrived at the square. Children mill about, chatting with their friends solemnly. A long line runs from a large table with a huge amount of papers on it. The sign-in table.

I sigh and trudge towards the line, where I wait for at least half an hour.

Once I finally reached my section, the one for 17 year old girls, our escort, a woman named Peake Messaire, begins to reap the unlucky tributes, with girls first. As usual. I hope I won't be reaped... I don't want to have my parents worry.

"Mita Knocka!"

Oh great, I just got reaped. Suddenly, I can't keep the tears from flowing. I feel a rude shove from behind me. I whirl around and see one of the popular girls snorting at me. I gulp and make my way up to the podium, tears dribbling down my cheek.

I can hear loud sobbing from the crowd, and I pinpoint my mother Kappa, who's crying her eyes out. My father, Rusty, is trying to soothe her, but nothing can heal wounds like this. Your only daughter getting reaped for the Hunger Games is nothing you can deal with easily. All you can do is try and forget.

**Lemont Cailan's POV**

My younger sister Esther pokes me, and I roll over in bed, unwilling to wake up. She says something, but it is completely inaudible to me. I'm not paying attention; my mind is too concentrated on falling back asleep.

I doze off for another hour or so, but awaken at my mother's fierce eyes as she gazes down upon me, prodding me to wake up. I find myself groaning as I stumble out of bed, still drowsy from sleep. I shuffle down the narrow hallway, past the room my three sisters shared, past my mother's room and into the tiny kitchen that reeks of overripe fruits that we had gotten on sale at the market.

I cough loudly as a flurry of dust flies in from our open window, blinking to get the dust out of my icy blue eyes. I clear my eyes and let them settle on my chosen breakfast, a bruised yellow peach. I swat away a lone fly, irritated at its presence. I plop myself down on a chair by the counter, munching on the overly sweet peach and wiping away the dribbling juice.

My sister Fran trots in and waves joyfully at me. I give her a grimace. It's her first reaping, thanks to the stupid Quell. It's also Samantha and Esther's first reaping too. Fran and Samantha are both 10, and Esther's 12. They share the same long blonde hair and blue eyes that my father used to have, before he died. I got my dark hair from my mother. Both of my parents had blue eyes though.

"Hi Lemont!"

"Hey Fran. Nervous for your first reaping?"

"Yeah, but Mom says not to worry." She smiles up at me and I return the smile grimly.

I bite into the peach yet again, trying not to puke as the sickly sweet taste fills my mouth. That peach was much too overripe. I zone out, staring at a spot in the sky, and robotically chewing the soft peach.

"Lemont, we're leaving in twenty minutes," is the next thing I hear.

I jerk up, "What?"

"We're leaving for the Reaping in twenty minutes. Get dressed," my mother calls from her room, and I groan. That sentence is definitely not my favorite sentence in the world; it's very unnerving.

I trudge out of the kitchen, tossing the half-eaten peach into the sink as I go. Five minutes later, give or take, I'm burrowing in my closet to find a clean pair of slacks. I'm wearing a white button-up shirt, a gray jacket and a red tie, but I have yet to find my gray slacks.

I shove aside one more pair of jeans, and the slacks lie neatly at the bottom of my drawer, and I sigh, slipping the slacks on to my skinny legs. I stumble out of my closet, and into my room, where I crash onto the bed, taking one last relaxing moment before I leave the room.

Twenty minutes later, Mom, Esther, Fran, Samantha and I are walking down the paved cobblestone road of District Eight, heading for the square. Fran and Samantha are humming a high-pitched tune, while Esther tags behind them and Mom and I walk slowly, not exactly looking forward to the event at 2 PM today.

We arrive just in time to see the mayor begin his speech. We depart from Mom and travel towards the sign-in station, where the line is short, but it still lingers with a few kids in it.

We get through the sign-in identification process fairly quickly, then two Peacekeepers usher Esther, Fran and Samantha to their designated locations, while I simply plod towards my area of 15 year olds.

I stand by two boys from my Physics class, feeling very bored as I think to myself. _Yes, Mayor we are ever so excited to get reaped so that we can go to the Capitol towards our certain deaths! How fun! _

I was feeling especially sarcastic today, but it was the Reaping, after all.

"We shall begin with the girls," the woman onstage trills, fumbling to snatch up 3 slips of paper from the glass bowl on the left.

"Mita Knocka!" A girl breaks out in sobs. I can't blame her.

"Amarantha Foxglove Grimoira!" Another girl steps out, looking brave, but crying silently all the while. Such a strange girl.

"Poppy Silver!" A surprised cry rang out through the crowd, then a thin girl with brown, frizzy hair steps out of her line, looking incredibly scared and nervous.

"We will continue, with the boys!"

"Dyrk Meade!"

She has to repeat herself another time before a small boy steps out of the crowd, smiling. _Does he even __**know **__what's going on? _I think to myself, and I get my answer by simply looking at his face closely. He has no idea.

"Lemont Cailan!" She practically shrieks and I wince at the high-pitched tone. I frown and walk up to the stage, doing my best to not show my worry for my siblings and mother.

**Amarantha Foxglove Grimoira's POV**

I stride out of my house, checking carefully that no Peacekeepers are around as I shut the door, leaving my home empty and silent. The dusty road is deserted and quiet. The usual loud noises coming from the cloth factory are absent, leaving District Eight disturbingly tranquil. Today is a day off for a "special occasion."

That occasion being the Reaping. Personally, I hardly count the Reaping as a special occasion, it's more like a deadly occasion. Although the Games can be interesting at parts. I don't know why, but for some reason, I like seeing the blood.

I turn onto the main road, a cobbled street lined with hundreds of brick houses, big and small. I pass a blond boy a few years older than me, and I let my eyes feast upon his good looks. He catches my gaze and looks at me strangely. I quickly dart down the road and out of his line of sight.

I arrive at the town square a few minutes later, my mind still on the cute boy. The giant town clock reads 1:02 PM, and I groan. I have to be bored for an extra hour, plus the actual Reaping, which totals around 2 and a half hours of boredom. Fun.

I head over to the sign-in table, where a long line awaits me, in which I step into, rolling my eyes irritably. The line dwindles for another half hour or so, before it finally allows me to reach the front. A Peacekeeper orders me to give him my finger, and I do so, feeling slightly annoyed at it all. A female Peacekeeper -with chocolate brown eyes and thin red lips- ushers me to my 17/F section, where I stand duly.

The black-haired mayor begins his dull speech about the history of Panem during the Hunger Games era. He begins with describing the first Rebellion, and how the Capitol obliterated District Thirteen and forced the other 12 districts into submission. The mayor, Carbree is his name, as I soon found out, moves on to telling the story of the second Rebellion, sparked by some girl named Katniss Everdeen. He told us how the Capitol rose again, even after losing the war, and how they assasinated Katniss and re-instated the Hunger Games with much stricter morals. He mentioned how he Capitol took control over District Thirteen, and rebuilt District Twelve. Mayor Carbree then flips a switch on the wall behind him, and clips from the two Rebellions begin to play, showing the saddest and goriest details, as usual.

My eyes become glued to the projected clips, eating up every detail. Once the clips end, I find myself staring up at the gray, smoggy sky. A crow flies by, cawing, as if laughing at us. I raise my eyebrow. It caws maniacally in response.

Our mayor finishes up his speech, with a "take it away, Peake!" and with that, he hands the black mic to the neon orange-haired escort, who immediately begins reaping the girls with a huge smile on her dark-skinned face.

"Mita Knocka!" she trills, and at that, a girl with long, curly blonde hair steps out of her line, sobbing quietly. I sort of feel bad for her.

"Amarantha Foxglove Grimoira!" Peake wavers at my last name, then spits it out with a flourish. Oh great. I mean, I like the Games, but I never expected, nor wanted to get reaped! I take a deep breath and try not to cry like all the weaklings do, but the tears spill out of my eyes, despite the brave look I'm wearing.

**Pofo Skethert's POV**

"Pofo Skethert!" the escort calls out, and I freeze. My heartbeat increases in speed and the dark-skinned escort (named Peake Messaire) looks over the crowd with a fading smile.

The boys around me part, and I feel slightly betrayed, even though they just did what they were supposed to do. Someone from behind me gives me a rough shove, and my chest tightens as I try to not cry, but the tears fall in big droplets against my will. I can hear cruel whispers from behind me as I stumble up to the stage.

"Wimp."

"Weaking."

The murmurs only make me feel worse.

"Poor kid, won't survive past the bloodbath for sure."

My chest tightens yet again, and I feel dizzy and faint. I'm so scared right now. I don't want to go to the Capitol, I don't want to take part in the Games, and I sure as hell don't want to die! I'm too young for that, I'm only 13, for Panem's sake!

I reach the stage, sniffling loudly as tears flow freely down my face and spilling onto my white shirt. I scuffle up the steps, feeling depressed, isolated and terrified. Now I'm standing beside the other tributes and wondering whether or not my father will even care that I got reaped.

**Poppy Silver's POV**

I dart down the street and towards the square. Everything is slightly blurred; I don't have very good eyesight, and my family can't afford glasses for me, they're much too expensive. I can make out a white uniform leaning against a lamppost, and I freeze for a moment before tiptoeing towards a bush and crouching behind it, hiding. Peacekeepers intimidate me, so I tend to shy away from them.

The Peacekeeper turns away from me, and I sneak out from behind the bush and dash towards another one carefully. The Peacekeeper doesn't seem to notice my presence at all. _Good._ I think to myself as I shuffle down the street, carefully keeping away from the Peacekeepers.

I can see clumps of blurry people standing and milling about at the square in front of me, so I quicken my pace, but soon tire.

Soon, I've reached the square and am making my way through the crowds towards the sign-in table. Once I reach it, I end up slouching the whole time until I get to the front of the line, where I go through the processions without a flinch.

I shuffle into my 13/F section, waiting next to one of my classmates, who's chatting away to one of her friends. I don't have anyone to talk to; I have no friends.

The mayor's finishing up his speech by the time I actually start paying attention, and the escort practically grabs the mic at her first chance, but fumbling to grasp it correctly.

"Mita Knocka!" she calls out. A sniffling girl stumbles up to the stage, crying silent tears. I can't blame her, but I'm just happy it's not me.

"Amarantha Foxglove Grimoira!" A brave-looking girl steps out of her line, but strangely enough, she's crying too.

"Poppy Silver!" At first I don't register the name, but the minute it does, I recoil in horror. Oh no. This can't be happening. I run my fingers through my hair nervously. The escort repeats my name.

"Poppy Silver, where are you, sweetie?"

"Right here..." I mumble as I start to go up to the stage, to the first step of my certain death.

**Yeah, sorry it was crappy. I've been incredibly busy and tired lately, sorry. Will update a tad faster now, camp's finally almost over. One more performance and I'm free. **


	11. District Nine Reaping

_**Welp. School sucks. My teachers are incredibly evil on the subject of HW. We have so much of it and it doesn't really help that I procrastinate. Oh and sorry for late update. But here's a lovely secret: reviews make me write faster.  
OH and extreme thanks to PinaColadaFox for beta'ing this chapter! :D**_

**Jay Harper's POV**

I find myself staring at the sky as I wait in the 14 year old section, and daydream peacefully about the unfinished painting sitting in my room, the one that's waiting for me to splash some more paint on it so that it can be finished.

The sky is bright blue, the air is crisp, and clouds float gently across the sky. I relish in the beautiful sight as I daydream. The world seems very kind today, despite the Reaping. My mind wanders from the topic of my painting to the topic of talking with my older sister Frija about makeup and goofing off with my brother Grey.

"Jay Harper!" calls out the escort. The name comes as a shock to me. The peacefulness of my daydream comes to an abrupt stop as I gasp in shock. Everything seems to slow down as reality sinks in. My vision becomes blurred and little spots of black appear in my vision as I tumble to the ground, unable to move.

The last thing I feel before I lose consciousness is a Peacekeeper roughly poking me.

**Lekram Pentin's POV**

I wave to my best friend Litan as I exit my gray house, grinning as I stride towards him. He cackles and walks towards the street, where we practically collide, laughing like maniacs.

"Hey Lekram," he says, hazel eyes twinkling.

"Hey Litan," I reply, smiling lightly.

"Ready for the reaping?" He snickers at the thought.

"I guess I have to be," I mutter, not at all liking the idea of going into a death game. Hopefully I won't get reaped.

Litan laughs, blowing a strand of bronze hair out of his face as he walks alongside me. We continue our mindless chatter for another twenty minutes, before finally reaching District Nine's plaza and heading over to the sign-in line. Litan manages to get ahead of me, even though I totally beat him to the line first.

"Sucker," Litan cackles.

"Not cool, dude." I growl, punching him lightly. He returns the punch, laughing. I punch him back and soon we're in a friendly punch fight, laughing our asses off until we reach the front of the line. A Peacekeeper looks at us strangely. We eye him nervously and sign in quickly, before getting the hell out of there.

Litan shuffles into the spot next to where I'm standing, nudging me playfully. I grin, and poke him in the side. He reflectively moves away, snorting loudly. I shoot a cocky smile back at him. He rolls his eyes, and we continue annoying each other playfully until the escort finally steps up on stage and shrills a welcome before she reaps three girls, one of which who passes out in shock. One of the younger girls actually looks excited, which sort of scares me. I mean, who wants to go to their death in the Hunger Games?

Before I finish analyzing the girls, the escort calls out a name of a person who I know won't stand a chance in these games.

Me.

I glance at Litan standing next to me, who shoots me a sad look and mouths, "Sorry."

I walk up to the stage solemnly, deciding to take a happy-go-lucky "Oh well, gonna die anyways," view of my bad luck.

If I'm going to die, I might as well enjoy my last few moments.

**Aniara Greenwood's POV**

I lie in bed, thinking and listening to the birds tweet cheerfully. One bird is singing a catchy tune louder than the others and soon, I find myself humming to the tune along with it, smiling. The bird is so carefree; so happy.

I stumble out of bed and plant my feet firmly on the soft rug carpet. My toes immediately scrunch up as the cool air of our house hits me head-on. I look out the window and finally realize that it's going to be a cold, windy day.

I guess I should re-pick my reaping clothes, or at least add a pair of leggings or a sweater. I glance over at the sun-yellow dress I picked out as my outfit a few days ago and sigh, continuing to hum quietly. I shuffle over to my closet, fling the door open and rifle through my drawer until I find a pair of white leggings and a yellow sweater with a bright orange flower sewed on it.

I slip out of my nightgown, pull the leggings on and wiggle into the dress. It reaches way below my knees, and it's slightly big on me, since it was my older sister, Aconium's dress for the past three reapings.

Her name's a play off of the poisonous plant aconitum, also known as monkshood or wolfsbane. That's one of the few poisonous plants I know of. Dad taught us all about aconitum, since it was commonly thought to be delphinium, which isn't poisonous. I know not to make that mistake. If you even touch it, the poisons can seep through your skin and into your bloodstream, reacting in a tingling sensation and some sort of heart ailment. I forget exactly what.

"Aniara! Breakfast!" my mother calls from in the kitchen, and I pull the sweater over my head before heading over, leaving my hair frizzy and tousled from the sweater.  
I hum the same tune that bird sang to me as I walk to the kitchen, my brown hair bouncing about as I go. I bump into my younger brother Declan, who raises his eyebrow at me before continuing on to his room.

I arrive at the kitchen to see a plate full of eggs waiting for me at the table. Not exactly my favorite type of breakfast, but no matter.

"Aniara, are you nervous for your first reaping?" my mother asks.

"There's no way I'm gonna get reaped, so not really."

My mother smiles weakly as Aconium pulls a chair out from the table and sits.

"So Aconium, it's your last year!"

"Yeah, thank Panem."

Aconium stabs her fork into her plate of scrambled eggs and eats the eggs thoughtfully.

"Mom, Kari's having her birthday party next week. Can I go if I'm not reaped?"

"Sure, just as long as you do your chores."

Aconium rolls her eyes, "Fine."

I begin humming a new tune as I nibble my breakfast, singing between bites. Soon, I finish, so I skip down the hall to my room and attack my bed, falling upon it and smiling as I sing. My eyes begin to flutter and feel heavier and heavier...

A couple hours later, I wake up to the gentle prodding of my mother. She smiles down at me, and says, "Aniara, you fell asleep. We have to go to the reaping..."

"Oh." I sit up straight and walk to the mirror robotically, fixing my hair and straightening my clothes. A familiar children's song appears in my mind, and I begin singing it quietly as I comb through my shoulder length hair.

"Aniara, come on!" my mother says from behind me, and I only notice now that she was standing there the whole time, waiting.

"Whoops. Sorry." I smile at her, putting my comb on my bedstand. She reaches out her hand, and I take it. We walk out of my room, through the hallway and kitchen, then into the living room, where my father and four siblings are waiting for us.

Aconium's dressed in a pretty silver gown, while Declan is attired in a small black suit with a red bow. My older brother Calum is wearing a bluish gray suit with a blue tie, and my younger sister Samara has a bright red dress on. She's 10, so she's eligible for the reaping, because of this stupid Quell. Declan's a very serious eight-year-old, but he's not eligible. Thank Panem. Declan's the only one safe this year.

"Let's go!" Aconium says, looking slightly annoyed. She grabs Samara's hand and pulls her towards the door. My father chuckles and takes his keys from the top of the bookshelf and heads out, my mother in tow. Declan and Calum shuffle out the door, leaving me to trail behind them. My father locks the door and we head off for the plaza.

Around fifteen minutes later, we arrive at the plaza. Samara, Calum, Aconium and I part with our parents and Declan and wander towards the sign-in line. Samara and Aconium begin chattering about random things, while Calum and I stand awkwardly behind them. Except I'm humming, so I'm not bothered.

Calum seems annoyed by my humming, because he glares at me for a few minutes before rolling his eyes and looking away. I don't care much, so I continue to hum.  
Minutes pass, and I find myself at the front of the line, giving my finger to the Peacekeeper at the table as I sing quietly.

"Little girl, do us all a favor and shut up," a Peacekeeper yells from my right side. My singing stops, and I sulk for a few minutes as I head over to my section.

I stand there for what seems like an hour, and I quietly sing to myself, ignoring the annoyed gazes and rude pokes to shut up.

Suddenly, the escort onstage calls out my name, and I'm overwhelmed by mixed feelings of shock, terror, grief and surprise. The emotions begin to override my mind and tears spill out of my eyes, I let out a instinctive scream, trying to rid myself of the nerve-wracking, pounding feeling in my mind. My surroundings become blurry and I can see tiny flashes of light in my peripheral vision.

Two Peacekeepers drag me up to the stage, but my heart's pounding and my head's aching far too much for me to register what is happening.

**Caelan Rhyse's POV**

"Caelan, get up."

My mind registers the tired face of my mother, but I don't move.

"Your choice if you want to be late for the reaping." She leaves the room, and I robotically get up and get dressed. If I weren't her son, she would've dumped me out on the street years ago. We share a mutual hate for each other and we generally ignore one another.

I comb my messy mop of raven-black hair behind my ear and sigh, and I blow a rebel strand away from my face, but it just settles back in its original place, irritating me. I finally manage to tuck it behind my ear, and it stays there for the time being. I head over to the kitchen, past the hollow, lonely corridor, where a bowl full of fruits is placed in the middle of the table. I pick out an orange and peel it, tossing the scented rind into the sink. I slowly chew on each of the slices, sucking on the juice and spitting out the tiny seeds. After I finish, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and shout a goodbye to my mother, who grunts from her room. I open the door, and slam it closed.

I stride down Capitolian Street, and down Ashburr, towards my friend Aspen's house. When I reach it, he's already waiting for me, sitting on the doorstep, looking bored.

"Ready for the death parade?" Aspen greets me.

"Not exactly looking forward to it."

"Hey, at least if you get reaped, you get to kill some kid."

"Eh, whatever."

"Want to go?"

"Sure, might as well."

We head away from his house and down Ashburr towards Crigey Lane, where the district square is located. The line at the sign-in table is already almost fifty people long. Aspen and I look at each other and groan in unison. This is why we're best friends. We share the same thoughts and feelings, and we both hate the same things. Reapings, the Capitol, irritating dumb people and pinecones. It's a long story about those pinecones.

I can see Aspen's gray eyes boring into the brown, matted hair of the girl in front of us. She doesn't seem to notice though.

He cocks his head slightly in frustration. "Bored. Bored bored bored bored."

"Don't announce it to the world, dumbass," the girl turns and we can see her pale complexion, her sunken eyes and the frown on her face, "and stop looking at me. I can feel your hot gaze on my back. It's annoying."

"Geez, didn't mean to be rude." Aspen's voice drips with sarcasm.

"Suuuure you didn't," the girl said, returning his sarcasm. Aspen shuts up. _She's just as pessimistic and sarcastic as we are. I like this girl so far._

"What's your name?" I inquire.

"What's it to you?" she retorts.

"Just curious." I reply calmly.

"Ash. It's Ash."

"Nice name."

"Thank you. Unless that was sarcastic. Then fuck you."

"It wasn't sarcastic."

"Good." Ash extends her thumb to the Peacekeeper, and he pricks it with a needle. I lean over to glance at her dial. _**Scythe, Ashbrie. 13/F**_.

"Hey, look Aspen. We're at the top of the line already."

"Oh wow. Huh." He gives the Peacekeeper his finger. _**Root, Aspen. 15/M**_

He heads off towards our section just as I give the Peacekeeper my pointer finger, and manage to read _**Rhyse, Caelan. 15/M**_ on the dial just before I'm shoved away by the boy behind me. I follow Aspen to the fifteen-year-old section, and I can see Ash looking bored in the thirteen-year-old section a few sections back.

"I hate reapings," a boy behind me whispers to his friend. _Talk about it, _I think to myself.

The mayor finally decides to start his speech. Aspen and I stand in place, occasionally whispering comments about the people onstage, especially the freaky escort, whose name I believe to be Amanita Riscarious. Even her name is dumb.

"Why would someone ever want to have pink hair?" Aspen whispers.

"Only a Capitolian would know the answer to that." I reply curtly.

"Haha I know right."

The mayor switches places with the escort, which just causes us to critique her even more.

"Her voice is so nasal, I feel like throwing up."

"You speak the truth, Aspen."

Amanita cocks her head and smiles after finishing up reaping the girls. She moves on to the boys.

"Lekram Pentin!" A boy shuffles up to the stage, his face calm. He shrugs lightly as he obviously sighs.

"Caelan Rhyse." Amanita screeches, pronouncing it as Ka-yee-lah-n Rh-iy-z, even though it's supposed to be Ka-yeh-lan Rh-ees.

"Look, the dumb escort even mispronounced your name!" Aspen tries to joke to lighten up the situation, but I'm already stepping out of my section as he says it.

"Sorry, Caelan," he calls after me.

I trudge up to the stage. Just as Aspen said earlier, now I get to kill some dimwits. I scan the crowd, and my eyes fall upon the thirteen-year-old section for the girls. Ash immediately stands out to me, with her sunken eyes and her grim look.

I roll my eyes and pay attention to the sky, not caring in the least.

**Ria Sunra's POV**

I stand in the sign-in line, waiting impatiently. I try to occupy my mind with the gray sky and the bobbing, fluffy white clouds. I watch as a bird with a blue upperpart and a white and cinnamon chest flits by, flapping its gray and blue wings as it goes by. I recognize it as a Lazuli Bunting. I did a report about it in fifth grade.

My brother Kenlin stands in front of me, while my little sister Loki pokes me in the back repeatedly as entertainment. I don't bother scorning her, she's only twelve and besides, I don't mind. Loki and I both have impatient tendencies, we get bored easily and we need to be occupied by something.

"Ria, I'm bored," Loki complains.

I turn to her, "Talk about it, Loki."

Loki has golden brown hair, just like me, and we both share our father's green eyes. She's shorter than me, at 4'5", while I'm stuck at 4'8". Loki and I are actually very similar in many ways. We're really close to each other, just like Kenlin and my other sister Lola (who's currently pregnant) are. Kenlin's eighteen, and Lola's twenty-three.

The Peacekeeper at the table asks for Kenlin's finger and I snap back to attention. He gives the man his finger and leaves for his section, and I stick my finger out. Loki groans. A small drop of blood trickles down my finger and I read _**Sunra, Ria. 16/F**_ on the device. A Peacekeeper grunts to tell me to go to my section, and I look nervously at Loki as I leave. She gives me a grim smile as she sticks her pointer finger out.

I reach my section just as the mayor starts his speech. I tap my foot impatiently, wanting this whole thing to be over already so I can take my alarm clock apart and put it back together again.

The mayor continues yakking and all I hear is, "blah blah blah blah Panem blah blah blah." Seriously, I'm bored out of my mind, and I hate being bored. I get irritable when I get bored. I blow a strand of hair away from my face, and swat at a fly that keeps buzzing around my head.

Finally, I hear the mayor clearing his throat and I see him handing the mic to the pink-haired escort, who begins reaping the girls immediately. At least she's doing a good job speeding this up to get us all out of here.

"Jay Harper!"

"Aniara Greenwood!" A high-pitched, obnoxious scream rings out as a result of the name being called and I groan.

"Ria Sunra!"

Wait, did the escort just call my name? Did I really just get reaped?

"Ria, come on up!"

I did just get reaped. Oh my Panem, I got reaped. Shakily, I bring myself to move forwards, towards the stage, my mind whirling. Do I have it in me to survive? How is Loki going to react to this?

I reached the stage, feeling slightly terrified, but then I struck up a conversation with Aniara, trying to calm her down. Maybe we could form an alliance or something...

**Kaede Dartmoor's POV**

I bite my lip as I wait in my fourteen-year-old section, feeling bored and wanting this all to be over so that I can continue with my life. The mayor goes on and on with his usual speech about how the Games began 225 years ago, as if we didn't learn this twenty times already in school.

"And so we have the Hunger Games..." he continues on, and I tune out, wishing I lived in District Three so that at least I could invent and work with technology more.  
"Here I'll hand it off to our lovely escort, Amanita Riscarious!" The mayor finally announces and I sigh with relief that the Reaping is closer to ending.

Amanita goes on to reap three of our District's girls to go to their near-certain deaths. One of the girls decides to socialize with the other one that decided to scream her head off in terror. They just enjoy their last life moments.

"Let's move on to the boys now!" Amanita announces.

"Lekram Pentin!"

"Caelan Rhyse!"

"Kaede Dartmoor!"

I duck my head down, acting like I didn't hear my name being called, but the jerk next to me punches me and whispers cruelly, "You got reaped, loser!"

My head sinks even lower and I even sniffle a bit.

"You're so pathetic, get on up there!" he insults me again.

I slowly move out of the section, and shuffle up to the stage sadly as I realize that nobody would really care if I died. My family practically disowned me.  
I only wish my luck were better...

_**Holy shit that killed me to write. And yeah, it's pretty much crap. I wrote the last two POV's at freaking 3:30 AM. **_

_**Dying. Just posted this after trick-or-treating for 3 hours. My legs are dead and my eyes are literally shutting. Goodnight. I'll post D10's reaping in a week or two. I hope. **_

_**TTYL.**_  
_**~Ash is out.**_


	12. The Best Gamemaker in Panem

**Most of you who actively read my story might notice that this is the same update as last time. I've just added a few authors notes and changed a few details. But I deleted the old update chapter.  
Alright, one, I shall be uploading D10's reaping by the end of the week, I managed to finish it a few days ago and my wonderful beta is currently working on editing it. Gracias to her, she knows who she is.  
Two, I've decided to ditch first person after the Reapings are done, and go to third person, past tense, because I need to work on that.  
Three, if you review, I'll be motivated to work faster.  
Four, I plan on updating more often now, I'm more interested in this story now, but warning, I'm under a lot of pressure at school, so I can't guarantee anything.  
Five, I'm also doing a collaborative story with someone on here that I've been RP'ing with, but it won't take place for a while.**

**If you guys didn't catch the events that I'm planning, here's the info.**

**-I'm going to have around 6-8 tributes featured in each event, and some events will have multiple chapters, as specified below. If it doesn't say anything, that means there will just be 1 chapter.**  
**-The events are:**  
_**-Goodbyes (3 chapters)**_  
_**-Train Ride (2 chapters)**_  
_**-Capitol**_  
_**-Prep Team/Stylists**_  
_**-Chariot Rides**_  
_**-Training Days (3 days, 3 chapters)**_  
_**-Gamemakers**_  
_**-Interviews (all tributes, unknown # of chapters)**_  
_**-Night Before Games**_  
_**-Midnight B-day Party**_  
_**-Morning of Games**_  
_**-Hoverplane/Launch**_

**Oh and yay. I'm adding writing to this chapter so that no one freaks out on me for having just an update chapter. xD**

* * *

Sylvia Nightcore was exhausted. She had barely gotten two hours of sleep the previous night, and was already falling asleep at her desk. Being the Head Gamemaker was a lot of work. A lot more than she expected. It was her first year, and she knew that if she didn't make it exciting for the Capitol viewers, she would be "discharged from her position in the Capitol" as plainly stated by President Ash herself.

In Madge Ash's dictionary, discharged meant killed.

The Head Gamemaker chugged down a cup of steaming hot coffee, and ordered an Avox to bring her another one. She stared down at the plans that lie below her. The arena was almost fully mapped out, but it still wasn't _perfect._

Everything had to be perfect for this Quarter Quell. No slip-ups would be allowed.

Another mug was placed onto her mahogany desk, but Sylvia ignored it. She tapped her stylus against the desk in a beat of four, her mind blank of ideas. The Head Gamemaker bit her lip. Her creative block was going to get her killed.

A deranged grin spread upon her face as an idea formulated in her brain. Oh yes, that would work quite well.

The idea was absolutely, positively _perfect._

"Ms. Nightcore?" one of the other Gamemakers asked.

"What?!" she snapped, turning her head to face the man.

"Are you alright?" he questioned. He looked worried. Sylvia instantly took a dislike for the man.

"I'm fine. Just fine," the Head Gamemaker said, and tapped her computer screen, sending her previous plans into the online Trash bin.

She drew up a new document, and began to sketch out her plans, taking a gulp of coffee from the mug beside her.

This year's games would be exciting, dangerous, surprising, and they would be the absolutely most brilliant one that had ever been viewed in _decades. _She would set the example for years and years of Gamemakers to come. Sylvia Nightcore would be known to all as the best Gamemaker Panem had ever known since the brilliant 44th Hunger Games all those years ago.

* * *

**That was fun to write. And yes, I just referenced Hoprocker's 44th HG (that are still being written) XD**

**~Ash**


	13. District Ten Reaping

_**I'm back again, with District 10's reaping. Yay. One more chapter closer to the games. :D  
Ugh I hate reapings. And school. *dies* Oh and since multiple people asked me to post the tribute list, I shall do so after finishing the reapings. I had to change a few things about each character to fit D10 better, but nothing too major.  
Now without further ado, here is D10's "marvelous" reaping. I wrote it in current tense cause I needed practice in it. Warning, I'll be switching to 3rd person, past tense after the reapings. Sorry for all the confusion.**_

_**Notice how I included a quote from the actual book xD (I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES) First one to guess where it is gets to influence the next Reaping a bit.**_  
_**Also, I included a Peter Pan reference in Rala's reaping. *dies***_  
_**Oh and check out the first two chapters, I rewrote them. They're actually good now. I'm probably going to rewrite all the old chapters, so you should check them out soon.**_  
_**Okay. Last note. I promise. Giant whoop to my beta, PinaColadaFox for helping me with editing, and gracias to Hoprocker for actually making me feel like I should get to updating. xD**_

**Ehna Barron's POV**

I swing the ax at the dead oak tree, making a small dent in it. I try again and the tree shudders with the impact, but doesn't topple. I can see a notch forming, so I chop at it repeatedly, cutting it enough so it can fall under the pressure of its own weight.

The tree lurches, but doesn't do anything. I swing at it wildly with all the strength I can muster, and it finally tips forward, falling at such a quick pace that I'm almost struck by one of the branches. Luckily, I had stepped away just in time.

_Stupid, stupid stupid._ I curse myself for not being more careful.

I stare down at the fallen tree for a while, memories of my childhood flitting about in my mind. Sitting in the tree's shade. Climbing to the top and gazing at District Ten with my brother Cormac, while munching on a juicy apple...

I shake my head, banishing the thoughts from my mind.

"Such a shame, eh?" a voice speaks from behind me, and I immediately recognize it as Cormac's.

"Yeah, but it was dying and anyways, we needed more firewood," I reply, and let out a sigh.

"True." he replies, seemingly regretful. We stay silent for a while.

I suddenly whack at one of the smaller branches, trying to break the awkward silence. I manage to cut it clean off, and then I kick it aside and chop it into four good-sized logs of wood. I set to chopping another branch into another four logs, and then I ask,  
"Hey Cormac, can you do me a favor and take these logs inside?"

Cormac heaves the logs up in his arms and heads back towards the house. I resume my duty of chopping. It's not really my duty, but I like the sensation of planting my ax into something firm. Cormac always joked about how I should've been born in District Seven instead of District Ten. At first, I always brushed it off, but now that I think of it, I belong there more than here.

Cormac returns after a few minutes, gripping his own ax, and together, we set to chopping the rest of the tree into logs and kindling. The whole duty ends up taking two full hours between the two of us.

Our father comes out of the house and runs up the hill, shouting at us, "Cormac, Ehna, time to get ready for the reaping! We can get the wood later!" He finally reaches us, and takes an armful of logs, and walks back toward the house. We follow in suit, bringing another armful each.

Once we get into the house, we go to our rooms to clean ourselves off and get into our reaping clothes. It's Cormac's last year for the reaping, and my fifth year. I have two more to go before I'm safe. Two more years of possible death. Joy.

I reach my room, and immediately go to look through my closet for my old reaping dress. After a fair amount of time spent searching, I finally find my pale gray dress that fades downwards into a dark blue. Truthfully saying, I dislike dresses, but I hate skirts more, so here I am. It is a pretty dress, however.

I slip into the dress, walk over to my bedstand, and snatch my brush. I run it through my messy brown curls. They get tangled easily due to their length.  
I take a final glance in the tall mirror hanging on the wall of my room, touch the scar on my eyebrow gently, and leave. I soon find Cormac and our father waiting in the small living room. Our mother walked out on us when I was four, and Cormac six.

"Ready to go?" my father asks. I nod quickly.

"Excited for the death array?" Cormac jokes. I give him a long, steady glare, but after a few seconds, I burst out laughing. My sides begin to hurt.

"Every year, Cormac." I laugh, and he just grins cheekily at me.

We leave, and our father locks the door behind us. We trudge down the dusty streets, our father behind us as Cormac and I joke.

"Hey, can we stop by at Jamie's house?" I ask, noticing that we're on his street. My father shrugs, signaling a "yes."

I whoop loudly and run down towards his house, and rap on the door loudly. His mother answers, and I ask whether Jamie wants to walk with us to the reaping. She says he'll be down in a minute, and sure enough, Jamie shows up behind his mom two minutes later.

Jamie's my best friend, and we've known each other since second grade. He may be a guy, but we're really close. Have been for years.

"Hey Ehna," he says, and I grin, "Hey Jamie."

We walk over towards where Cormac and my father stand, then we all set off towards the District square again.

Jamie, Cormac and I begin talking randomly, going from topics such as apples and bananas, to chainsaws and axe-murderers.

Once we reach the square, we quickly sign in and get to our places. Jamie's standing in the section across from me, talking to a guy friend, while I'm stuck next to a bunch of prissy bitches yakking about boys and makeup. I groan inadvertently, but no one notices.

The mayor, Charlot Greene, a serious woman with graying hair and brown eyes, stands up on the stage, clears her throat and begins the required speech for every reaping.

"Panem rose from the ashes of a place once called North America..." she drones on with her disgusting nasal voice, and I roll my eyes at the stupid formality.

"... it is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks..."

Mayor Greene finally finishes up her speech, and hands the mic to this year's escort, a colorful man with icy blue hair like frost and burning sienna eyes. He seems to be new.

"We'll begin with choosing three lucky ladies!" he announces, seeming just a bit hyper, and I wait impatiently to get the whole thing over with. A cold breeze rattles my body, and I shudder.

"Twigg Malchin!"

"I VOLUNTEER!" is what a muscular girl with long auburn hair screeches. I groan. She must be one of the training fanatics that District 10 has. They act like it's all secret, but it's not. Everyone knows, even the Peacekeepers.

"Serr Lane!"

"I volunteer!" calls out another girl, this time blonde. I sigh.

"Ehna Barron!"

Oh Panem, why must my luck be so? I don't want to go to the Hunger Games, I'm fine with my life here! I think, as my heartbeat races faster and faster, but I only scowl and stalk up to the stage, acting annoyed despite my worried mind. Why couldn't either of those girls volunteer for me instead?

**Fallean Keeper's POV**

A cold breeze rustles up the leaves surrounding me, and I feel chilled to the bone as I wait in the sign-in line. It's a cold day; the skies are dark and threatening, the wind seems to be annoyed, and the temperature is dropping by the minute.

I shiver as goosebumps rise up on my skin, even below my warm gray suit. The mayor clears her throat as I do so. She begins the required introduction speech for every Reaping, and I have an urge to rush onstage and strangle her.

I try to tune Mayor Greene out with a simple melody I listen to often, Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, by the great musician, Beethoven himself. No one really knows I like music, and I plan to keep it that way. It's just easier for me if that secret stays silent.

Violins whisper softly in my mind, while flutes play in the background with all the other instruments, drowning out the nasal voice of Charlot Greene.  
Music dominates my life, despite my so called "arrogant" personality, as everyone at school says. I mean, sure, I am good at a lot of things. I'm the fastest guy in my whole grade, if I may say, and despite being fourteen, I bet I could win the Hunger Games.

That's why I'm volunteering this year. I'm really strong, I'm a fast runner and I'm pretty handy with a knife. And I'm not scared of blood. Besides, I've been training at the sort of secret mini training group that District 10 has for over a year now, and I'm the best of the fourteen year olds.

"All right then, I'll hand it over to our charming escort!" the mayor finally announces, and I'm slightly surprised at how my whole daydream just blocked out the whole speech. I even feel proud of myself.

Our escort, a man dressed in a crisp black suit with electric linings, starts off with reaping the girls, as most escorts do. I begin to prep myself for volunteering.

_This is your year, Fallean. You are going to volunteer._

"Ehna Barron!" the escort shouts, reaping the last girl. I watch as the annoyed-looking sixteen year old girl steps out of her section and walks up to the stage, scowling.

"Now onto the boys!"

I decide to volunteer second to last, but am interrupted by a familiar name.

"Fallean Keeper!"

Well then. Guess I didn't need to volunteer, after all. The job got done for me.

I stand up straight, put on a smirk and stride up to the stage confidently. What's there to worry about? I know I'm gonna win. I'm sure of it.

**Roxy Veneer's POV**

A puff of smoke releases itself from my mouth, and I take a deep whiff of the burning cigarette in my hand. I stand at the outskirts of the district, gazing out at the seemingly endless grazing pastures. The sun's been up for about an hour now, and I relish in the calm serenity. It's not as dirty and smelly here as it is in the heart of District 10. It's a nice change to have crisp, clean air, instead of air that reeks of manure and hay.

I hear leaves rustling behind me.

I whip around, bracing myself.

But it's just Jak Stucco, my best friend. He and I go way back.

Jak isn't alone, however. Lana Mortar, one of my other friends is trailing behind him.

"Hey Jak, Lana." I say.

"Roxy, our whole training group has agreed that you and I need to spar to see who will be the female tribute this year." Lana butts in curtly, right off the bat.

I look baffled, "I thought we agreed that I'd volunteer this year."

"Guess not," she says with a smug grin. I raise my eyebrows at her with a half-glare. I snub out my cigarette on a flat rock and the ash crumbles.

"Sorry, Roxy. The rest agreed. You two are the best two girls in our group, and since there can only be one victor, only one of you can volunteer."

District 10 has gotten a lot more victors lately than the other outlying districts, mostly because a few adults have brought together a small group of teenagers and pre-teens aged 9 through 18 to train for the Games. It's been going on for almost 15 years now. It's our choice to train, no one's forcing us, although the training group is supposed to stay under the radar. Jak, Lana and I are all in that group. We're the only 18 year olds. Jak's less serious, so he's not planning to volunteer. Lana seems to be more serious than I thought she was. Either way, I can beat her.

Jak dumps a couple of weapons out from the small duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Knives and protection gear fall out.

"It's an authorized fight, and I'm supposed to regulate it." Jak says, shooting me an apologetic look, "Gear up."

Lana and I are good friends, but like all friends, we have fights and disagree on things. She can be a little snobbish, while I can be arrogant.

We quickly snatch up the gear, strapping it onto our elbows and knees, and then pulling the chest protector over our heads. Neither of us want to accidentally be stabbed by the other.

Lana takes up two dulled daggers, and I grab a set of mini throwing knives. I'm actually better at hand-to-hand combat, but knives are definitely my stronger weapon choice.

"Ready to go down?" I ask her, grinning.

"You're the one going down, Roxy." Lana glares at me, her hazel eyes narrowing.

Huh. That's weird. She seems really competitive today. She's not usually very competitive. I decide to brush it off, and to focus on beating her.  
Lana and I begin to face off, circling each other, until Lana suddenly runs forward and jabs at me. It's unlike her to use this sort of strategy. I quickly dodge to the side, wondering if she's trying to catch me offguard with her new tactics. Whatever they are.

I duck as her knife swings towards me, and slash at her knees. The kneepad rips and I let out a cackle. Lana screeches angrily.

"Lana, what the f*ck's with you? You're acting really strange!"

"What's with me? WHAT'S WITH YOU?" she yells, "You're think you're so great, Roxy. But you're not! I'm better at fighting than you are!"

"You're just jealous that I'm better than you are!"

"Shut up, you know that's not true!" Lana growls. She runs headfirst at me, her ebony hair flying behind her. I throw aside my throwing knives and attack her. She throws a punch at me, but I catch her hand and twist it behind her back. She yelps in pain. I screech as she uses her other hand to yank a handful of my hair, and I elbow her in the stomach violently.

We roll around for a bit, until I finally manage to pin Lana down, with my hands at her neck. She glares up at me, struggling to break free.

"See, Lana? I can beat you any day."

"Oh shut up already." she hisses, her eyes flaring up with anger.

Jak finally decides to intervene, saying, "All right, you two, calm down. Roxy is going to volunteer, because she won. Sorry, Lana."

Lana just shoots him a furious glare. I grimace and roll my eyes.

"Sorry, Lana, but it's my time."

"Screw you!" Lana shouts, wrenching herself away from me. She throws off the protective gear and stomps off. Jak and I watch her go, but don't dare follow her.

"What's with her?" I ask, and Jak just shrugs,

"Dunno, she's never like this."

"Yeah. I'm actually sort of worried..."

Jak shakes his head, "Don't be. I'm sure she'll be fine. She's Lana. She's always okay."

"Good point."

"Now come on, you need to get ready for the reaping."

Only now do I notice that Jak is fully dressed in a suit, jacket and all. I let out a nervous laugh, shed my gear and get my stuff together. I didn't bring much, just a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I like to smoke when I'm alone.

Jak is putting all the weapons and gear into the duffel as I pull my hoodie over my black shirt. I stuff the cigarettes and lighter in the pocket and wait for him to finish packing up. He finishes within the next minute, and we walk down the hill together, heading towards my house just on the border of the main part of our district.

The only thing I hate about going to the hill is how long it takes me to get there and back. It's an exhausting five miles. I can totally do it, it just annoys the living hell out of me.

Jak departs halfway to drop off the duffel bag at the mini training center, and I am left to finish the next two miles alone. I smoke on a cigarette, which helps me get through the rest of the walk. I know it's a bad habit, and it makes my voice husky, but I don't care. The nicotine calms me down, and it basically keeps me from going insane and killing someone before the Games.

I finally reach home, to be greeted by my stressed-out mother, Tiana.

"Roxy, where have you been? You need to get ready for the Reaping!"

"Calm down, mom, I was just at the hill with Jak and Lana."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me where you are more often," she says, giving me a stern look.

I roll my eyes, saying, "Whatever." My parents are way too protective.

I trudge up the stairs towards my room to get dressed. My sister Cassidy is waiting for me and I shoot her a furious look.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"Nevermind that, Roxy. Don't volunteer, I want to." She flips a curl of her red hair.

Cassidy is a year younger than me, and she's in the whole training program too. Practically our whole family is. It's sort of a big thing for us, since my grandfather won 37 years back.

"Cass, you still have next year. This is my last year, and I'm volunteering. You can volunteer next year, after I've won."

"Ugh, you suck, Roxy."

"Love you too." Sarcasm drips from my voice as I give her an insincere smile. Cassidy just rolls her eyes. We'd probably be closer if we both weren't so competitive.

"Okay, now, get out of my room. Seriously. I need to change."

Cassidy leaves, and I sigh.

Twenty minutes later, I'm fully dressed. I couldn't care less about makeup, but I did put on a layer of lip gloss for the cameras. I'm wearing a dark green dress, a gold necklace with a gun-shaped pendant on it and a pair of black slip-on shoes.

I exit my room and walk down the stairs and into the living room, where my whole family seems to be waiting for me. Oh wait, Cassidy is missing. She takes way too long to get dressed. Directly quoting her, "I'm a fashion genius!"

I plop down on the couch next to my younger brother Mason. My other sister Slate is sitting next to Mason, mumbling something about voices in her head. She's sort of schizophrenic.

Five minutes later, Cassidy finally waltzes in, wearing a sparkly blue dress with makeup all over her face. Personally, I think it just makes her look worse, not better.

"Can we go already?" I ask.

My father, Granite replies, "In a minute Roxy. Be patient."

I groan, and Mason shoots me a sympathetic look. My head falls backwards, and I stare at the ceiling, bored.

Finally, after a long and dull ten minutes, we leave the house and arrive at the district square within minutes. Cassidy, Mason, Slate and I go to sign in, and to my annoyance, this girl Sandee is in front of me. She's the most annoying, stuck-up girl in my whole age group, and I hate her guts. I groan loudly, and Sandee turns around, smiles at me, and says "Hi!" in a extremely high-pitched voice. Then she turns back to finish signing in. She leaves soon after, much to my relief. Then, I sign in and go to my section, squeezing myself next to my friend Casablanca Bartlett.

"Roxy, please tell me you're not going to volunteer."

"Look, Casablanca, I'm really sorry, but this is my last year and I have a good feeling that I'm gonna win."

"Roxy, don't. There's 77 other tributes this year!"

"Casablanca, I beat Lana earlier today just so I can volunteer. I know I can do it."

She turns away from me, a hurt look on her face, and I feel sad for making her feel that way for a minute, but at that exact moment, the mayor finishes up her speech and hands the mic to the escort, who immediately begins reaping. I shut up and pay attention for the right moment to volunteer.

He starts with reaping the girls, and I feel myself prepping for the big announcement.

"Twigg Malchin!" he calls out, and I take my chance.

"I VOLUNTEER!" I screech, pushing through the other girls and towards the pathway to the stage. I can practically feel Lana and Cassidy's sour stares at the back of my head as I walk, but I don't care. This is my year, and I'm going to win.

**Kyle Martyr's POV**

The Peacekeeper points me towards my twelve-year-old section, and I roll my eyes and stride towards it, ignoring the shushed chattering around me. I weave through the groups of kids my age, and stand near the edge of the section, spacing out.

Pushing away a strand of my sandy blonde hair from my face, I continue to stare out in space, feeling excessively bored. The air is cold, and I'm feeling especially irritated today. The stench of manure is has lodged itself in my nose, and I can't seem to get rid of it.

I can see my older twins sisters, Melia and Talia, yakking away in their section in front of me. They're a year older than me. All my siblings are older than me. I'm stuck as the youngling, the one no one pays attention to. I hate it.

Maybe if I volunteered, they'd finally pay attention to me. I have been secretly training at District 10's training group (it's a new thing, established barely ten years ago). It was basically created because some of the adults got sick of watching all the District 10 kids die. I don't blame them.

Mayor Greene puts a smile on her bleak, ugly face, and begins to talk. With her nasal voice. The exact one that drives me insane every Reaping. I have an urge to run onstage and strangle her.

Luckily for her, I'm distracted by a wet splat on my shoulder. I look up and see a bird flying away. I slowly turn my head and stare at my shoulder. A yellowish white liquid coats my jacket, and I nearly gag. The damned bird shat on me.

I'd take off my jacket, but it's freezing, and my shirt is already tattered, and I don't want to be viewed as poor if I do end up volunteering. Which I believe I'll do. But what should I do about the disgusting mess?

I dig in my pockets to see if I have a napkin or tissue of sorts, but find none, much to my dismay. I groan, and look up to see our beloved mayor hand the mic to the escort, who takes his sweet time to start reaping. He begins with the girls, like most escorts tend to do.

Ignoring the names, I fussed with my jacket. I didn't even care about volunteering anymore, there was always next year.

Luck certainly wasn't on my side today, because the name called after "Fallean Keeper" was mine.

Great. Just freaking great. Now I have to go to the Hunger Games and have all the Capitolites view me as a freakish pig because I have bird shit on my jacket. That's sure going to lose me sponsors.

**Samuel Martyr's POV**

The escort looks very excited to be here. His demeanor seems to be extremely hyper and perky, despite his icy blue hair and penetrating sienna eyes, which makes him seem sharp and outlandish.

He looks impatient and ready to snatch the mic from Mayor Greene. She's the opposite, looking very serious and proper. She likes to take her time.  
Luckily for him, the well-dressed mayor finishes up quickly and hands over the mic, seemingly eager to get rid of it. I'm not sure whether or not she likes most of the people of our District. Something tells me she doesn't.

The blue-haired man giddily begins with "We'll begin with choosing three lucky ladies!"

"Twigg Malchin!"

A shout of "I volunteer" is voiced by a muscular-looking girl. She must be one of the training fanatics.

"Serr Lane" is the next tribute to be reaped, but she is quickly replaced by a girl named Rala Berarah. Quite a few volunteers this year, I see. Strange.

His third female tribute is Ehna Barron, a girl none-too-happy to be reaped. She looks like she wants to be anywhere but here, but is trying to hide it. Smart move.

He moves onto the boys.

"Fallean Keeper." The name means nothing to me.

"Kyle Martyr."

No. This can't be happening. Not Kyle. I know he's been training for the Games, but there is no way in hell he's ready yet. I've seen him sparring. Anyone older and stronger can beat him.

My feet are moving forwards before I even register what I'm doing. Words spill out of my mouth.

"KYLE! I volunteer!"

Kyle reaches my spot, hissing quietly, "What are you doing, Samuel?"

I ignore my younger brother.

The escort asks, "Are you volunteering in his place?"

He has some sort of accent not from here. It doesn't seem Capitolite, though.

I believe in my brother, but he can't win the Games alone. I'd rather die while helping him win than to watch him die back here, in District 10. He would be furious at me if I volunteered in his place, anyways.

"No, to help him win."

The escort raises his eyebrow, muttering to himself, "Never had a tribute do that before..."

I give him a look and he asks me my name.

"Samuel Martyr." I say, puffing my chest out confidently.

"Hm. Brothers, eh?"

Kyle and I both stare at him, then take our places next to the other tributes. Our escort, who turns out to be named Frost Chisel, originally from District 2, then forces us all to shake hands, before we are all escorted to the Justice Building.

**Rala Berarah's POV**

My friends Bayleaf, Prafa and Tala walk beside me as we travel the journey towards the District square. We're discussing the Hunger Games to pass the time.

"Rala, are you going to volunteer? Please don't..." Prafa says, looking worried.

"Prafa, I'm sorry, but I am. I've trained, and I want to show the world that you can win with wits and training." I reply. There is no way I'm going to skip out on this.

"Well if you are gonna volunteer, you better kick everyone's asses in the arena." Bayleaf cheers, grinning widely.

"That's the spirit!" I wink at her, and she gives me a thumbs up. Bayleaf trains beside me in District 10's training center. It was established around 15 years ago, and I'm the best girl in my age group.

Prafa and Tala eye each other nervously. I know they don't want me to volunteer, but I'm 90% sure that I can win this thing.

"Prafa, Tala, don't worry. I've been training for this since I was eight. That's seven years of hard-core training. Plus I'm smart. I can do this. Believe me, I've thought this over enough, and you know how careful I am with things I do."

Tala looks a little less scared, but Prafa still looks skeptical. Prafa bites her lip, looking away from me as she says, "I still don't want you to volunteer. I don't want to lose you."

Bayleaf elbows Prafa in the side, "Lighten up. Why don't you believe in Rala?"

"I do believe in her, I just don't want her to take the chance. Neither I," she glances over at the other girl, who nods, "or Tala want to watch Rala die on national TV. I'm not saying she's going to do so, but there's a large chance this year, with three times more tributes and all."

I know Prafa cares about my safety, but that last remark sort of hurt.

"Gee, nice to know you think I'm gonna die." I say sarcastically, and Prafa puts her hands up in mock-surrender.

"I didn't..." she starts to say, but I cut her off, laughing.

"I know, I know, don't worry." I grin, "But seriously. Do you guys all support me or not?"

Prafa sighs, "I believe in you, I'd just rather you didn't volunteer and take the chance."

"I'm with Prafa." Tala looks back at me.

I already know Bayleaf does, but she grins, raising her hand, "I believe in you! I do! I do!" She's always been my strongest supporter, and she's my best friend for that exact reason. We get along very well, and we have waaaay too many inside jokes to count.

I laugh. The word count reminded me about this inside joke that Bay and I have. It was in English class, where we were responding to an old tale called Count Dracula, and oh god haha that was hilarious.

I whisper, "Count." into Bayleaf's ear and she cracks up laughing, hyena-like, alongside me.

Tala and Prafa stare at us strangely as we walk.

"Inside joke." we say at the same time, and break out laughing again.

Prafa and Tala groan, "Of course."

We finally reach the square, sign in and are escorted to our section to further laugh our butts off.

A girl bumps into me. "Watch it, missy!" I snap at her.

She glares at me and heads off to her respecting section, muttering "Freak."

My mouth opens dramatically in mock-offense, and I clap my hands to my cheeks, "GASP."

Bayleaf high-fives me. Prafa and Tala just roll their eyes.

I'm a lot closer to Bayleaf than Prafa and Tala, and same goes for them. Prafa and Tala are closer to each other than they are with Bayleaf and I. Sort of like two pairs of best friends that are all friends. It's a fun mix.

Our mayor, a woman named Charlot Greene begins her speech around five minutes after Bayleaf, Tala, Prafa and I are standing diligently at our places in our fifteen year old female section. That doesn't mean we're behaving, though.

We're all giggling too much to even listen to Mayor Greene's speech. A Peacekeeper whispers for us to shut up halfway through her speech, and we nod nervously.

I spare a glance at Bayleaf, who's trying not to crack up. She looks at me at the exact same time, and we snigger silently, pinching our arms as we try to be quiet.

That earns us another glare from the Peacekeeper. He doesn't seem to like us very much. I don't blame him, however. We're not exactly the most quiet people. In fact, we're pretty damn loud.

By the time we actually manage to calm down (Tala and Prafa already did ages ago) the hyper-looking ice-blue haired male escort has already reaped the first girl, and the shout "I volunteer!" has rang out.

Except it's not mine. It's someone else's, and I quickly realize that I'm about to lose my chance to volunteer. At the next name I hear, which happens to be Serr Lane, I scream, "I volunteer!" loudly and shove past my friends.

Bayleaf grins at me, saying, "You go, girl. You can do this!"

But Prafa and Tala just look at me sadly, and I almost feel bad for volunteering. Almost.

I've been looking forward to this for too long to regret volunteering. Besides, it's too late to change my mind. Once it's done, it's done.

I stride up to the stage confidently, and quietly, so that I won't stand out too much. If I stand out, I'll be an immediate target for the Careers. And if I want to win, I can't let that happen.

I let a timid smile bleed through, even though I'm full-out grinning in my mind.

This is going to be _exciting_.

_**End note: Oh my god this reaping is like 2x longer than all my other reapings. Creepy. And yes, District 10 has a training center now.**_


End file.
